Imagine your OTP cuddling for warmth under a thick duvet during winter because the heater/radiator in their bedroom broke and it’s freezing cold.
Xephos was pretty sure he couldn't feel his toes anymore. In fact, he was starting to be concerned about several of his body's extremities, particularly the more ... Important ones. He frowned. The room was freezing, practically sub zero, Xeph could have sworn he could see his breath clouding as it spilled sluggishly over his lips, and he was numb with cold, his icy state not helped by the fact that the entirety of the duvet had once again been pulled to the other side and used as a cocoon, while he was left exposed to the wintery chill, with only a sliver of fabric to cover himself with. He paused, closing his eyes as he shook his head in disbelief, rubbing his hands along his arms as he shivered. That impossible man ... His stiff muscles ached and groaned, protesting as he attempted to sit up and stretch, shuddering as the cold winter air tickled over his bare skin again, leaving fresh trails of goosebumps in it's wake. He groaned and flopped back into the pillows beneath him, gently nudging the warm lump curled up next to him.
'... Sjin ...' No response. He sighed again, rolling his eyes as he dug his elbow in harder. Xeph swore he could sleep through the apocalypse given the chance ...
'Sjin! Wake up for Notch's sake!' There was a quiet grumble as the duvet shifted, long fingers appearing to tug it over his head before they retreated hastily back into the warmth of his duvet nest. Xeph paused, waiting hopefully for a moment before cursing slightly. Why did he have to be stuck with the most infuriating man on this entire accursed planet?! It's your own fault, you fell in love with him. He growled, ignoring the tiny voice in his head as he reached out, softly running his freezing fingertips down the back of Sjin's neck, the only visible part of him.
The reaction was immediate.
There was a muffled shout as the mattress bounced and wobbled, wide blue eyes emerging from the confines of the duvet to glare at him. For a moment Xeph held his gaze, before Sjin relaxed with a groan and slumped back into the pillows, bouncing slightly.
'Xeeephh ... C'mon I was having a good dream ... That was mean!' He resisted the urge to roll his eyes for the umpteenth time, raising two cold fingers to pinch at the bridge of his nose.
'I'll tell you what else is mean, stealing the entire duvet again and leaving me to freeze to death. You're lucky you didn't wake up next to a block of ice!' He watched as Sjin shot him a sheepish expression, although the effect was slightly lost by the impish grin playing at his lips. He paused before proffering a corner to Xeph with an inviting waggle. He huffed slightly, but accepted the fabric, pulling at it gently until he had a decent amount to himself again. Sjin almost immediately shuffled closer to him, a sly smirk on his lips as long arms wrapped around Xeph's body.
'Ooh, you are cold ...' Xeph gave in with a quiet huff, his stiff posture loosening as he cuddled in closer to Sjin's tantalisingly warm body. Why is he always like a mini radiator? Xeph sighed, resting his head on Sjin's shoulder as their bodies pressed firmly together, long legs tangling. Slim, warm arms curled around him and Xeph relaxed into the heat radiating out of his skin as Sjin grumbled about his cold feet.
‘Why is it so cold all of a sudden? I could have sworn that it wasn’t this cold yesterday!’ Xeph frowned slightly as his kissed softly along Sjin’s neck, he had a point. Their poky little flat could hardly be described as luxurious, but they could afford it and that was what mattered.
‘You did pay the rent didn’t you? I don’t want some guy charging up here and chucking us out naked and cold ..’ Sjin chuckled, but the sound quickly died as Sjin raised a hand to rub at his neck.
‘Ah … I think I did … I sure I did it after work on Thursday … Well … I’m pretty sure I did …’ Xeph sighed and leant back, raising an eyebrow as he gave Sjin a stern look. Sjin quailed slightly, brown creased with worry before his eyes lit up and he nodded. ‘Hey don’t look at me like that! I definitely paid! I remember, I came back from the library and went straight down there … And ah … Mrs Berezovsky from downstairs shouted at me again for us being too … Noisy ...’ Xeph could help the chuckle that slipped over his lips as Sjin blushed lightly. ‘And then I went and gave next month’s rent to Mr Evans. Don’t you remember? That was the night we put the shower to good us-’ It was Xeph’s turn to blush, colour clawing it’s way determinedly on to his cheeks as he buried his face into the crook of Sjin’s neck.
‘Yes I remember Sjin.’ He paused, and snuggled closer, a frown creasing his brow. ‘So if you paid then why is it so cold? What if the heater is broken? I hate this shitty apartment .. It’ll never get fixed now, and it’s going to only get colder … We’ll probably have to pay extra just to get it working again, and we’re not exactly made of money! We’re barely scraping by as it is …’ He groaned and slumped slightly, eyes slipping shut as he focused on his breathing. Soft lips pressed along the worry lines on his forehead until he relaxed again, muscles unclenching.
‘Ssh Xeph it’s fine. We’ll pay for it, I’ll put in some extra hours at the library and we’ll cover it ...’ A warm hand stroked gently along his skin, heavy and comforting. ‘Until then I don’t mind not having any heating. Means I get to snuggle more with you and keep you warm ...’ Lips fluttered over his, soft and tantalisingly firm and he gave in, gently returning the small kisses as long fingers danced lightly over his skin.
Imagine your OTP taking shelter together during a rainstorm. Person A keeps looking up at the clouds through the trees and so almost misses the moment when Person B leans within the circle of their arms and licks a line up their throat, up and up and up to where they press an open mouthed kiss against the underside of their chin that makes Person A gulp for air, makes them have to brace themselves against the tree behind them for balance. “There was water,” Person B says with, trying for an innocently wide-eyed look but the gleam in their eyes and the hand at Person A’s hip gives it away. “I got it for you.”
And my brain screamed Ridgephos so here have a drabble.
~
They stumbled, hands interlaced, through the rain, clothes soaked and laughter hushed by the incessant patter of the raindrops splashing on to the concrete. Their hair was plastered wetly to their foreheads, slicked down, and Xeph could see the sparkle in Ridge’s eyes as he tugged him along. They ran together, sprinting towards the lone tree looming out of the sheets of water falling down in them, skin icy cold and glistening damply. He could see Ridge’s shirt clinging, half translucent, to his skin as his thin jacket still struggled to hold back the onslaught of rain. They made it under the large leafy boughs eventually, rain dripping down on to the glinting leaves until they bowed under it’s weight sending tiny waterfalls plunging towards the ground. He watched Ridge raise his arm, running a hand through his dripping auburn curls, eyes tracing over the beads of water ran down over his skin, leaving behind intricate trails. Ridge paused for a moment, lips curling into his gap toothed grin, before he shook himself like a dog, water spraying out of his hair, tiny icy needles that flicked over Xephos, causing another bout of chuckles to fall from his lips as he reached out and dragged Ridge towards him, guiding them backwards until the rough bark of the tree dug into his skin, pressing their warm, wet bodies together. Ridge’s hair stood up at awkward angles, framing his mischievous expression, the impish glimmer held deep in his golden eyes and Xeph had never known him to look more beautiful. They stood there like that for a moment, pressed together in each others embrace, rocking gently from foot to foot, listening to the steady drumming of the rain around them. Xeph let his eyes wander upwards, away from Ridge, watching the heavy dark clouds hanging above them through the dripping leaves, ignore the glistening droplets of water that clung to his lashes. He felt Ridge move, eyes flickering down in time to catch his tongue flicker out, tracing a thin warm line up the soft skin of his neck. His breath caught, a shiver running through him as his eyes fluttered shut, feeling Ridge’s lips move again his skin, parting slightly to press a warm kiss to the underside of his chin, tongue circling against his skin. He braced himself against the tree, fingers clasping at the knots in the reassuring solid trunk of the tree behind him as his head swam, lungs gasping in oxygen. He felt warm hands run up his sides while soft lips pressed fluttery kisses to his chin and jaw, before they trailed back over his neck, teeth grazing in skin, lips sucking gently. Xeph shuddered, glad for the tree behind him, his anchor to reality that stopped him floating off with Ridge right there and then. He felt the lips pull back, the warmth leaving his skin, and his eyes snapped open to meet Ridge’s golden gaze, wide eyed and innocent, a long hand gesturing at his neck. Xeph could see right past it, see the gleam still buried in his eyes, feel his hand at his hip, rubbing slowly circles through the wet fabric of his top.
‘You had a drop of water there … I didn’t want to leave it …’ He stared at his angelic expression for a moment before a smile tugged at his lips, and he leant down, capturing Ridge’s lips in a chaste kiss.
‘Thank you … What would I do without you hm?’ The was a pause, a split second of silence between the two as they stood there, soaking wet and entwined beneath a tree as the rain fell around them with a steady thrum. They rested their foreheads together, staring deep into each others eyes, and Xeph swore he could practically feel the love radiating around them, thick and tangible, yet fragile, waiting to be broken as it hung around them.
‘Oh you know, probably crash and burn. Let’s face it, we can’t exactly call what you did before I came along “living” now can we?’ And just like that it was gone. Xeph rolled his eyes, leaning down to kiss Ridge again as long fingers entwined themselves together and Ridge smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief again.
Here have a couple of drabbles that are attmpting to inspire me
~
He hadn't meant to scare him. Really he hadn't. It was just too easy to forget that he couldn’t fly. Still the look in his eyes and the way his brow crinkled adorably definitely made it worth it.
~
It was just for one night. That's what Xeph kept telling himself as he hid under the duvet, listening to boots clack softly over the flagstones. Just for one night. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore the cheerful whistling as clothes were shedded. Tried to ignore the depression in the bed as he joined him, hands immediately snaking across his body as he tried not to shudder and retch. Tried to ignore the pokes and prods and commands emanating from the warm body he was squashed up against. Tried to ignore the perfect plains of his tanned skin, and the freckles across shoulders that begged him to nip at, and the strong muscles that rippled beneath his skin. One night curled up next to the annoyingly perfect body laying next to him. One night of being half naked with him. One night putting up with his teasing and sly remarks and obnoxious smirk. One night of being ordered around by him.
It wouldn't be easy, but if it was to save them, he would put up with it.
For one night only.
~
'You were meant to be watching him!' He could almost growl in frustration, cuddling the tiny body close as hot fat tears slipped on to his shirt.
Ridge shuffled apologetically, diverting his gaze from where Xeph was currently crouched, murmuring quietly to the tiny figure as he attempted to sooth his tears. 'I'm sorry! Really really sorry! I just turned away from him for a second to point out the silver birches ... I didn't expect him to run head first into a tree!' Xeph sighed and examined the nasty looking swollen purple lump on his head before carefully bushing as much of his dark fringe over it as he could, thumbs gently swiping across tiny wet cheeks.
'You're impossible Ridge ... Come on Lucas, let Daddy show you around, he's much safer than Papa ...' With a final glare at Ridge, he swept the boy into his arms with a quick peck to his cheeks and a mock groan, settling him on one hip before starting to walk further into the forest. 'Who's grown again? You'll be taller than Daddy one day won't you! Almost too big for me to carry now! And look at what you can from up here Lukey ... The trees look all pretty with the leaves falling off ... It's beautiful isn't it?' Ridge watched the little boy ... Their little boy, nod happily and cuddle in closer to his father as he pointed out various exciting things in the forest. Ridge couldn't help the smile that planted itself on his lips as he began to follow behind them, boots crunching softly through the leafy ground.
~
The accident wasn't his fault, it couldn't have been. It was ridiculous to even consider the possibility that he could have been involved in some way. There was absolutely no way that he could even be minutely linked. Which didn’t stop him from feeling terrible. One little bit. Which was why, when Ridge had slumped over to him and given him eyes that were big enough to melt his heart, he had opened his arms with a sigh, and let the demigod curl up against his chest, auburn locks tickling his chin.
~
It wasn't even as if he needed the pen when he stole it from those long gracefully pale fingers. He had done it purely to get those gorgeously blue eyes to sweep up from his desk to scowl at him. He could lose himself in their depths, swim in the oceans that surrounded pupils as dark as the squid ink filling the pen. Instead he let a smirk play on his lips, twirling the pen at him teasingly. Anything to see his eyes.
~
He tried to remember who had convinced him to do this, but the memory stayed annoyingly out of reach, balanced precariously atop the whirling room, a sickening mush of colours and sounds bombarding him as he staggered through the sea of people. Xeph was drunk. He hated it, hated making a fool of himself, hated hiccuping with droopy eyes and a lopsided smile, hated the tang of of alcohol in his mouth, but it seemed to happen whenever Lalna could coerce him into having a beer.
His stomach lurched violently and he bent over, retching as the edges of his vision blurred dangerously. Suddenly warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him upright with a gently force. He clung to them, his anchors as a glass was pressed to his lips, a smooth voice telling him distantly to drink. He obeyed, barely noticing the cool clear liquid slipping between his lips as he cuddled back into a broad chest.
'Thlak yoooou Ridgeee ...' The world faded into darkness as he curled up, small and protected in his savior's arms.
~
There was nothing that tempted Xeph more than locked doors. They called to him, tempted him with their whispered promises and hidden secrets. So when Xeph had seen it, small and plain compared to the rest of the doors, and had noticed it was locked, his interest had been piqued. He had made short work of the lock and quietly slipped inside.
It wasn’t what he had expected.
He had expected .. He didn’t know what he expected. An hidden laboratory? A secret dungeon filled with things that creeped and crawled and slunk about in the shadows? He certainly hadn’t expected a bedroom. It was obvious this wasn’t just any bedroom. This was Ridge’s room. He could smell him, feel his presence in the neatly folded corners of the bed and the precise ordering of the books on the shelf. He ignored the horrible feeling of trespassing and crept over to the books. He could see them all, handwritten dates etched into the spines, carefully ordered chronologically. Did Ridge keep a … diary? He supposed a series of diaries, considering how old he was. He reached out and slipped the latest book out of its snug position on the shelf, opening it in his long fingers. A word caught his attention. A name- His name.
A collaboration between i-dreamed-of-infinity and my fiancée curlz101
A kind of sister not fic to the not fic fic fic (I think list is the word you're looking for, Hun)
This can be read with the other fic that we both worked on here
Words: 2249
Rating: Slightly NSFW in places ... Well he is Ridge
1. I think he hates me. Like fully I-want-to-kill-you-in-your-sleep hates me. I don't understand what I've done wrong ...
2. He's very good looking. For someone who hates me.
3. I wish he'd stop giving me death glares. I think it's because I fly too much.
4. He told me off when I stopped flying. Apparently my boots got mud everywhere.
5. He broods all the time and he manages to make it sexy...And I don’t know how. He is a master of brooding, he makes it an art.
6. I don’t think he can forgive me for the Survival Games. But then, we don’t talk about those.
7. After he’s been working outside on a hot day...I could eat him up whole, he looks so delectable ...
8. I think he has a thing for someone else. He seems so distracted these days.
9. I doubt it’s Honeydew, those two seem more like brothers...It’s not Sips or Sjin, those two are too busy getting off on each other to worry about him… Nilesy’s only interested in cats and I’m sure Rythian and Zoey are an item. Who’s even left?
10. I think it's Lalna. He does spend an awful lot of time with him in their lab. Experimenting.
11. Lalna does seem a lot more like his type… I need to turn up the charm.
12. He doesn't like me. Why doesn't he like me? Everyone likes me, even Sips. And everyone knows the only thing Sips likes is Sjin.
13. I need him to like me. No. I need him to love me.
14. Look at this list, Self, what is wrong with you? Are you addicted now, is that it?
15. Why can’t I get him out of my head?! He’s probably off with La- No, I’m not going to think like that. He will be mine, he just...doesn’t know that yet...
16. I think my demi-god-ness confuses him a little. Or annoys him. Probably both.
17. Mission Win Xephos is not going so well. I will win him over eventually, who can resist me? It's either that or crush Lalna. Into very very small pieces. And hope he doesn’t hate me for it later...
18. His eyes.
19. They are like endless pools of beauty. I wish he'd let me see them more often.
20. I’ve met so many people but none have had eyes quite like that. Stars cannot even compare.
21. He smells like oil and spice...Which doesn’t sound like it should mix but when combined I’m convinced it creates some kind of addictively heady smell-drug..
22.I think this is going to be a long, long list...
23. You know you have a problem when you dream about a man...
24. But if he lives up to the dreams I’ve been having...Sweet Notch...
25. He gets so flustered, it’s adorable and now I can’t help myself.
26. I have to kiss him. I think I shall explode if I don't. I need to know what his skin feels like, whether he's warm or cool, what he tastes like. I think I'll kiss his hand. That's charming right? Not too forward?
27. His skin tastes as good as he smells. Notch, I cannot get enough of this man...
28. I wonder what he’s like in bed...He seems so restrained normally ... I want to make him let go ...
29. I don't think he likes Lalna anymore (If he ever did). I caught him staring. At me.
30. His lips are softer than I thought. Although he may be a little angry that I kissed him in front of his friends. I don't think he's talking to me anymore.
31. He is talking to me again! Thank Notch. I thought I was going to die. I mean, what did I do to deserve the silent treatment? It's not my fault he's so gorgeous when he blushes.
32. This man is infuriating.
33. I think I still annoyed him...I’ll make it up to him in time.
34. I can’t stop thinking about it…. Damn that man. And his lips. And his eyes. And his EVERYTHING.
35. The face he pulls when I carry him around is priceless. He looks an awful lot like a grumpy cat, but I know he loves it really.
36. He cooks!
37. His cooking.
38. His body literally makes me drool. I feel terribly out of control.
39. He's even beautiful when he's working. He gets this little frown of concentration and his tongue sticks out. I'm not sure he appreciates me distracting him though.
40. The way he tells me off for not accepting consequences, and then doesn't mind when I cut him off with kisses.
41. How did I live before he got here? I can’t remember... All I can remember is him.
42. He really doesn't like my coat.
43. Really doesn't like it. He has this funny look in his ey- Oh dear.
44. I just had possibly the best sex of my life. And that is saying something.
45. I wouldn't have guessed he had it in him. Apparently he really does let go ...
46. I think he knows not to mention my teeth now. They’re not that bad, are they?! I mean, yes there's a gap but ...
47. He seems sorry for poking fun at me. I’ll get my revenge somehow..
48. I don’t think he likes how I dress… It's not my fault I like my coat. It's a nice coat. It never hurt him. Well .. Maybe it did ...
49.HE’S SO TICKLISH! This is the best thing I’ve ever discovered! He even does this cute little snort when he's laughing really hard.
50. He complains I'm really heavy. (I'm not) He doesn't complain when I kiss him.
51. If we fight, he seems so sorry, even though he is usually right. I don’t deserve him, I truly don’t.
52. He swears we are never fighting again. I have never seen him so apologetic. I’ll make this all up to him. I will.
53. Did you know that walls are actually extremely nice places? I think I like walls a lot better now. Especially after … Well ... Let’s just say my darling does get terribly frustrated sometimes.
54. I don't even think he liked my pick up lines. Which is a shame, I worked awfully hard on them. Maybe I’ll just need to try harder.
55. He always loses himself in the moment. He just lets go of all of his restraint and turns into this sex…. Ah, well, nevermind… I can’t risk his wrath for letting too much out. He will hunt me down.
56. He works way too hard, all the time. He loves his job, bless his heart, but I wish he wouldn’t get so stressed out about it. Maybe I can convince him to take a few more days off this year.
57. I want to show him this list, but I’ll resist it. Maybe someday I’ll show him… He can see what meeting him turned me into.
58. He told me off for acting like a puppy yesterday. It’s hardly my fault that I get so excited around him.
59. I caught him muttering about dog collars and teaching me to behave the other day. I love this man far too much.
60. He keeps bumping in things. You think he would have gathered how much furniture I have by now… The way he swears at inanimate objects is hilarious
61. I love how sometimes all I have to do it look it him and he gives in.
62. He thinks the rooms move. Which would be terribly endearing if he wasn't absolutely correct. I don't think I'll tell him yet.
63. He doesn't like my cooking. Ah well ... I tried.
64. He is far too neat. His face when I mess up the kitchen is priceless...
65. He gets lost going to the bathroom. The ensuite bathroom.
66. I gave him a concert from the shower this morning. I don't think he liked it.
67. It takes him 10 minutes to get ready in the morning! How can you be that damn beautiful and only take 10 minutes to get like that?!
68. I think he is impressed by my linido. He certainly doesn't complain about it when I decide to distract him.
69. He is so tight. I don't understand. It should be illegal to be that deliciously tight. Mm~ Oh ... Ah ... Excuse ... me for a ... moment ... Really need to stop thinking about him that hard ...
70. The noises he makes… It’s my favorite sound...And the way his eyelids flutter just before...Oh, er, I should probably stop this train of thought now... Before I end up with another ... Problem ...
71. I have the best present ever for him. He will love me for this. It's the most brilliant idea I've ever had.
72. He told me off, but I can tell he loved it. He's just too stubborn to admit I was right.
73. His complete and utter lack of clothing. He must be a magician. I see no other way he could get away with owning only 3 shirts. And one of them is his 'good one'!
74. The way he presses his cold feet against me in bed as punishment for stealing all the covers.
75. The way he looks in the mornings, hair all mussed and that beautiful sleepy smile of his. I feel like I should make him breakfast in bed more often.
76. He gets all grumpy when I suggest us doing anything mildly experimental in the bedroom. It’s somewhere between completely adorable and extremely gorgeous. I think he likes trying new things really. He certainly doesn’t complain afterwards.
77. When he’s jealous it is so sexy I want to make him envious all the time.
78. He just smoulders in the best way, I should make him jealous more often...
79.He just looks like he’s going to devour me whole … I think he likes the fact I now have to limp and wince about. I like the fact I have to limp and wince about.
80. I think I’m going to ask him to marry me. I don’t know whether he’ll say yes or not but I have to ask and try. Because I love him so much, and he needs to know that. There is no one else now, only him.
81.Going away has never been this hard. I hope he’ll be okay without me. I’ll miss him. I think he'll miss me.
82. The way his face falls when I tell him I have to go away for a while. I'll let him have my pillow.
83. He skips the cuddling. He likes to pounce on me right after we've finished and demand more. I don't think I could say no if I tried.
84. Mm~ Seconds~
85. Thirds is mindblowing. It's a wonder I have any higher brain functions left at all.
86. I'm pretty sure he lives outside of the laws of reality. Otherwise I can not explain why fourths is even better than firsts. Where does he get the energy from? Dark matter?
87. I will never tire of him, every time is just as earth shattering… Hmm~
88. He's even beautiful when he's crying.
89. That with everything I am and everything I’ve done, he still loves all of me. THat even though I am broken and hardly deserve his love he still tries to heal me. I don’t deserve him.
90. Have I mentioned he cooks? Like an angel. I don't know what I was eating before but when he makes an omelette I want to swoon.
91. He is the best to snuggle with. (He calls me his hot water bottle. He's terribly cute when he's sleepy.)
92. I tell him he's beautiful everyday. Why can't he believe me? If I tell him often enough, he'll have to believe me.
93. I don’t think anyone ever told him how beautiful he was. That is criminal. How can he not see what I see everyday?
94. He seems to greatly appreciate my back massages….The noises he makes when I find a real knot of stress are adorable. And it’s always nice when he decides to return the favour…
95.He knows exactly how to make me unbelievably happy. All the time, without fail.
96. The way he talk in his sleep and when he’s only half asleep. He kind of mumbles slightly. I think I caught him last night talking about me. He really is just too adorable.
97. His beauty intrigues me. Every angle of him is just right. Like he was designed purely to be my dream. My perfect dream… Although I suppose I should say a reality now.
98. He’s perfect undeniably perfect. Absolutely and completely perfect. Even his imperfections are perfect. Look what he does to me, I’m not even making sense anymore.
99. I like the way he has to act like the grown up around me. He tells me off for being too childish, but I know he loves it really. I think that deep down, he’d like to act like a child again too. Maybe one day I can convince him.
100. I've just written 100 things about the same man. If this isn't love I don't know what is.
This is especially for sjinnuendo and curlz101/yogshipprompts. Okay. There.
Words: Like 3000 or something
Warnings: None except extreme fluff.
Boots crunched through the grass beneath his feet as chilly air crept beneath his collar and tickled his toes. He liked this time of year, he really did, when the last orange leaves drifted down from bare limbed trees and the frost coated the ground white and covered window panes with intricate patterns built with fine shards of ice. Every breath he let out clouded into a stream of mist that drifted and danced on the breeze before floating up and disappearing against the heavy grey skies. He liked this season, he really did, liked the festivities and the warmth of crackling fires, the laughter and the tingling burn of golden brandy as it slipped down his throat. He liked this season. What he didn’t like was working during it. It was all perfectly fine to curl up next to a roaring fire and watch the first flakes of snow fall silently like a blanket over the earth, but it was not so fun to have to trudge through it the next morning, lips blue and fingers numb against the bitter winds, flakes clinging to your eyelashes until you are almost blind. What was not fun was stepping into a freezing factory filled with cold air that would take forever to heat up, and have to crank up the protesting machines that spluttered into life with a wheeze. What really wasn’t fun was having to walk home after a ridiculously long day of working, cold nose buried deep inside the confines of his scarf in an attempt to keep warm, feet scuffing against the ground as he briskly charged home before it could get any darker. Which was where he found himself now. Xephos loved autumn, loved watching the changes as the life and colour if summer slowly seeped away into the icy grip of winter, loved watching the lush green hills fade out into a white so bleak and harshly pure you couldn’t tell where the sky ended and the land began. He loved all of this as long as he was warm and inside, away from the North winds and the falling snow.
But he wasn’t. He huffed a little and sped up, desperate to get inside and warm up, though it would surprise him if his toes had actually fallen off by now and were just rattling around inside his shoes. He focused on the lure of red wine, a good book and enough blankets to get lost in, but all his thoughts of happiness were swept away by another cruel gust of biting wind. This was ridiculous. He could have been home by now, warm and cosy, if Lalna hadn’t have insisted he was needed to watch another perfectly pointless experiment that was supposed to somehow increase Jaffa production. If only the stupid cakes weren’t so popular at this time of year maybe the factory could be shut and he could stay home, never have to brave the cold weather or have numb fingers or deal with Lalna’s crazy ideas.
At least he knew what to write on his Christmas wish list this year.
He rounded the last row of trees in the orchard and made a beeline straight for the door, boots crunching along the gravel path as he fished in his pocket for the keys. His fingers finally clasped around cool metal and he drew them up out of his pocket with a cheery jangle, triumphantly raising them up.
He dropped them.
He scrabbled around on the ground for a moment, cursing his numb fingers for a moment, before snatching the keys up again and jamming them into the lock on the door and twisting them violently. To his relief the door swung open and he hurried inside, slamming it shut behind him as delicious warm air rushed up to greet him like an old friend, curling around his cold fingers and chasing away the last remnants of the bitter wind outside. He stood for a moment in the foyer, eyes closed, as he felt the chill seep out of his cold bones, replaced with soothing warmth, eyes burning as any remainders of coldness faded into dim memories. Eventually the nerves returned to his fingers and he slipped off his jacket and scarf, hanging them up on the end of the banister and slipping off his boots and socks, leaving them in a pile to thaw out by the radiator, a small puddle of meltwater already forming around the soles. He wriggled his toes happily against the cooler marble before setting out into the house to find somewhere warm to curl up with a good book. He set up the stairs, peeling his shirt from his back as he padded across the carpet, sighing happily as the warm air tingled across his bare skin. He shivered slightly, heading along the corridor before slipping inside his bedroom. He paused for a moment, before padding across to the huge wardrobe and tugging it open. He rolled his eyes, pushing past the rows of coats before reaching back into the dark depth. A smile planted itself firmly on his lips as his fingers clasped around soft fabric. He checked over his shoulder before tugging it out, revealing his favourite grey sweater, thumbs rubbing over the thick soft fabric. He couldn’t resist burying his face in it for a moment, deeply inhaling the slight scent of soft leather and champagne hidden in the fibers before standing and tugging it over his head, the comfortable material clinging snugly to his skin. He snuggled inside of it, nose hidden inside the turtleneck, as he breathed in again, lips twitching into smile behind the fabric. It was good to be home.
Strong arms wrapped themselves around him as a low smooth chuckle reached his ears.
'I didn't realise you'd taken to wearing my clothes darling.' He rolled his eyes, pushing down the turtleneck collar before turning around, russet hair and a familiar smirk swimming into view.
'Well it isn't like you're going to wear it, not with all those ridiculous coats you have. Why else would it be buried right at the back of the wardrobe hm?' Soft lips pressed into his neck with endearing gentleness and he let his head fall forwards into the thick auburn waves in front of him.
'I suppose you're right dear … Besides, it looks good on you.' Familiar warm hands placed themselves on his hips, thumbs rubbing gently at the soft skin under the hem of the sweater. 'I missed you … You work far too hard.'
'Yes well, even I'd rather stay at home in this weather but unfortunately we both know the factory would fall apart if I didn't trudge down there everyday.' He caught Ridge's lips in apology, humming against them as his hands slipped inside his hair.
'Nmm~ I know Xeph … Still … I miss you …' He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped over his lips, stepping back with a final parting peck.
'I missed you too … But I'm here now, so stop going soft on me …'
'I am not going soft! Now come on … I have a surprise for you …' He melted at the grin Ridge gave him, giving in with small smile of his own.
'A surprise? Ridge I'm not really in the mood fo-' He wa cut off as his hand was snatched up in Ridge's warm one and he was dragged out of the room, smooth chuckles ringing in his ears.
'Oh darling … Always expecting the worst from me … No the surprise is in the kitchen.’ The staircase swept by beneath him as he was towed along, towed along behind Ridge like the tail of a comet as it is flung across the stars. Rooms flew by until they eventually came to a halt in the kitchen. Ridge turned to him, excitement sparkling in his eyes as he gestured towards the small package placed on the table.
‘I know it’s not much but I was very proud of getting it for you, and I thought it fit very well with the season, and I know you have a sweet tooth even thought you try to hide it, and I really hope you like dar-’ He cut him off with a kiss and a roll of his eyes before padding over to the table and lifting up the brown paper bag. It was light, warm to the touch, and the faint smell of cinnamon and nutmeg rose up to meet him. He paused and frowned slightly before sliding the object out of the covering. A smile broke out over his lips, as he turned to face Ridge’s worried expression.
‘It’s pie. You bought me pie. I don’t really like pie.’ Emotions flickered over the strong features in front of him, almost too quick to pick out, a blur of feelings, hands held in front of him in a way that vaguely reminded Xeph of a scolded schoolchild.
‘It’s not just any old pie! It’s pumpkin pie, very important pumpkin pie because I made it. With some help of course, you know what I’m like in the kitchen. I mean usually I leave this sort of thing to you but I had some help and I thought it turned out good. I thought you might like it, so I brought it home. You don’t like it? B-But I thought we could snuggle up and try it. I mean obviously it looks perfect, but I don’t actually know what it tastes like and I want you to help me try i-’ He pressed his lips to Ridge’s firmly again, praying the pie wasn’t now a squashed mush on the front of hi- Ridge’s jumper.
‘You’re babbling Ridge. Now come and help me cut the pie, I’ll get some créme fraïche.’ Ridge nodded happily before pausing mid step and turning back to Xeph.
‘I thought you said you didn’t like pie?’ He laughed softly, pulling out a couple of tall mugs and the bowl of thick soured cream. Ridge was still frozen, staring at him with confusion etched into his face as Xeph closed the fridge door with a bump of his hip and a peck to Ridge’s cheek.
‘I did. I don’t like pie. I love it.’ He hummed softly as he handed Ridge the knife to cut the pie, watching as a pink tongue crept over over his lips in concentration. Xeph bit back his chuckle, placing down the mugs and cream before searching a few of the cupboards, retrieving the tiny marshmallows, vanilla extract and all important dark chocolate from the cupboards. He set about the kitchen as Ridge fluttered around him, adding and heating ingredients until he was done, their mugs brimming with dark liquid that enticed his nose with rich flavours. He grabbed the whipped cream, building a mountain of white foam on top of each mug before covering them with with marshmallows and the last shavings of chocolate. He swatted playfully at Ridge, already drooling at the sight of them from over his shoulder before snatching up the mugs and heading out in the living room, with a head nod in the direction of the plates sitting atop the counter, large slices of pie and cream laying proudly on them.
‘Ridge, grab the pie darling.’ He padded through the door and down the corridor, a wall of warmth meeting his flushed cheeks as he stepped inside the large room. The fire was crackling tamely under the mantle, licking at the charred logs in its reach, and the sweet scent of apple wood drifted up to greet him. He smiled, shaking his head slightly as he set the mugs down on the little table and flopped back into the large sofa, curling up in amongst the blankets and cushions. Ridge really was incredibly thoughtful sometimes. He closed his eyes for a moment, caught up in the warmth and comfort of the room. he barely noticed the slight clinking of plates and the depression in the sofa that marked Ridge had arrived. Lips fluttered over his face and he opened his eyes slowly, a smile forming on his lips as blue orbs met golden ones. He returned the kisses gently for a moment, before shifting around and settling back into Ridge’s chest, snuggling into his warmth and smell. He lived for moments like these, in the peace and quiet, when everything just seemed so right. But it wouldn’t stay like this for long. Ridge wanted pie after all, and he once he had an idea in his mind there wa no stopping him. he sighed playfully and handed him a plate and fork, picking up his own and scooping a little into his mouth. Flavours exploded across his tongue, sweet and tart at the same time, all overlaid with the spice of the cinnamon. For a moment the only sound was their forks scraping against the plates as they enjoyed the pie, steam still rising off of the hot chocolate as they left it too cool.
‘That was amazing pie. Even if I do say so myself.’ He set his empty plate next to Ridge’s and picked up his mug, relaxing back into him as he raised it to his lips and sipped. Heaven. ‘Though the hot chocolate isn’t bad either.’
‘Oh really? Well I’m glad you think so. I must admit the pie was very good, especially for you Ridge.’ He craned back his head in time to catch the mock hurt expression on his face before pressing kisses underneath his jaw.
‘I know I’m bad at cooking Xepphie, but that was a little harsh.’ He looked down, eyes shining as he pressed their lips together again. This man. He would be the death of him. He could still taste the lingering traces of cinnamon and rich smooth chocolate as they kissed, everything autumny and wonderful and so very perfect.
‘Mmm~ You know I don’t mean it Ridge. I love you, terrible cooking and all.’
‘I love you too darling.’ He laid back, Ridge welcoming him into a cuddle, eyes drifting out to the impossibly clear night sky, and the countless shining pinpricks of light that looked down on them from their blanket of blue velvet. The edge of the windows were already clouding up with frost, but there, in Ridge’s arms next to the sputtering fire, everything was warm. His eyes drifted shut again, inviting him back into the soft darkness that shrouded his mind, calling him back into sleep. He let go, safe and happy, mind drifting back into the oblivion of sleep. He was home.
Finally got one of them done! I'm sorry about the terrible ending but it was getting very long so I just wanted to get it done and out. Anyway, here have some more Ridgephos angst and some whump!Xephos because I'm satan.
Warnings: Angst and injuries, blood and a tad of gore
Also some of my descriptions are quite gruesome but I don't know if that counts as a trigger.
Words: 4668
Based on this prompt by the amazing Curlz101
~
The arrow had come out of nowhere. It whizzed by him and sunk into the cave wall with a dull thud, half rotten feathers brushing his cheek, so close he felt the rush of air. He hastily rubbed at his eyes, cursing at the tear that trickled slowly down his cheek as he slid his sword out of it’s sheath with practiced ease, whirling round to find the source of the arrow.
‘You never stop to think don’t you? Never stop to think how I feel? I’m not just some mindless robot! I have feelings.’
The skeleton blurred into view and he lurched towards it, sword rattling against it’s bony rib cage as he swiped at it, eyes tearing traitorously again. Another arrow, grazed past him, and he winced as warm liquid oozed down his cheek, pain searing across the wound. He gritted his teeth and lunged again, sword glinting as it slid through the creatures dull eye socket, bones clattering to the cave floor as the magic holding it together final faded. Xeph sucked in a few ragged breaths, ignoring his wildly beating heart, before staggering further into the old mine shaft, blinking furiously as he tried, tried so hard it hurt, to forget about that obnoxious man who he loved and why couldn’t the fool see that?
‘You’re supposed to love me! You think it’s just okay to go running after anyone who is mildly attractive to you. I thought you loved me?’
His mind churned as he stumbled slightly, hastily brushing away a few more tears as he steadied himself on the cave wall, wet stone clinging clammily to his palm as he tried to hold back the imminent flow of tears. That stupid self-centered, narcissistic bastard, did he really think it was okay to do that to him? Did he even care about Xephos or was he just another conquest, another name to be written on his list, another trophy for his cabinet to show off and boast about. A sob racked through him, spilling across his lips as he bit his tongue. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing what he did to him.
‘I was wrong you know. I thought you would be different, that you were capable of loving someone. I was wrong. You’re nothing but a heartless monster.’
His mind ran over the argument, every word piercing his heart again, the image of Ridge stood in front of him, mouth open in shock, still burned into his eyelids. A burst of bitter laughter erupted from his mouth. He hadn’t even had anything to say. No apology, nothing. Just stood there as always. Who had he been kidding? A god, in love with him? No, he had been lying to himself, telling himself that he really was wanted when he had just been another plaything to occupy his time.
And now he was being chucked aside.
‘You don’t deserve to be loved.’
He deserved it. Everything he had coming, all of it. Xephos cursed him with every word his hazy mind could summon as he rounded yet another corner. Death was too quick a punishment, he hoped he burned for the rest of forever, that he hurt for the rest of his infinite life. It still wouldn’t be enough.
He gripped his sword hilt tightly, smooth leather handle his own real anchor to reality as he careered through the dank mine shaft. It had been a stupid idea to come down here, one he immediately regretted, but it was the last place Ridge would look for him.
He hoped he died down here. That would serve him right, that would show him, make him see what he had done wrong for once.
He had run out of torches hours ago, utterly lost down in the sprawling labyrinth of caves and shafts that wound under their feet, the earth cloying and oppressive above him. He paused for a moment, breathing deeply and wiping another treacherous tear on to the back of his mud grimed hand. Slight hissing filled his ears and he spun around, sword glinting in the red eyes of a spider. He cursed, swinging wildly at it as he felt sharp fangs pierce his skin, vision already becoming woozy as his balance shifted and his mind reeled. His stomach heaved and his blood felt sluggish in his veins, body slumping as he backed away from the advancing arachnid. He groped behind him for the comforting solidarity of the cave wall, sword still wavering at the spider, but no damp rock met his touch. He teetered there on the edge of the dark abyss for a moment, body desperately fighting against the ever constant pull of gravity before he fell, stale air rushing past him as he sank deep and deeper, mind slipping away from him as he gazed up at the tiny fading pinprick of light above him, glowing eyes peering curiously down at him as he plunged further into the dark depths of his unconscious.
The pain was the first thing he felt. It crashed into him like a raging tidal wave, dragging his broken mind out of the darkness on a surging tide of frayed nerves. His whole body ached, but the pain was still nothing compared to his heart. He dragged himself up slowly into a sitting position, wincing as pain spiked through his body, crackling up his spine. Sucking in a few calming breaths he glanced around, tugging his pack over towards him before rummaging around with in it's fabric depth for anything vaguely luminescent, pain subsiding into a dull throb. He searched blindly for a moment, fingers feeling through the contents of the bag before his hands eventually clasped around the rough wooden hilt of a redstone torch. He clutched it like a life support, drawing it out of the pack before placing it unceremoniously on the damp cave floor. It wasn't ideal but it would do. Better than the darkness. He watched the tip sputter into life, dust lighting up until the area around him was filled with an eerie red glow that cast menacing shadows and glinted in the stagnant pools of cave water until they looked like fresh blood. He glanced down at his body, checking for his injuries. Blood was oozing out of his forehead, matting stickily with his hair, and he had a gash along one arm. All in all it didn’t look too bad considering, until he saw his right leg. It was twisted horribly, bent at an unnatural angle, and pain seared through his body again at the sight of it. It made him feel nauseous, strangely detached from his body and almost sickened by the sight of it. It was definitely broken, and there was nothing he could do except try to find his way out again. He paused, trying to work out how long ago it was since he had stormed away from Ridge, how long he could have been unconscious but time was a fuzzy blur in his head, filled with endless darkness and stumbling steps. He could have been trapped down here for days with no way to tell except the growing fatigue in his limbs. He could die down here and no one would know, no one except the one person who couldn’t care less about him. The bitter words spurred him on, and he pushed himself up agonisingly slowly, an echoey scream escaping his lips as his weight accidentally slipped on to his broken leg. He quickly righted himself, heart pumping erratically as he breathed and snatched up his only source of light. The darkness surrounding him no longer felt like a refuge from his feelings, a safe place to hide away from the world, suddenly it felt alive, filled with chilling whispers and cold caresses that invited him to give up, clawing at his skin and clutching at his throat, pressing in on him from all sides with a claustrophobic weight, that crushed his hope and made him want to cry out again in pure terror.
He quelled that feeling as best he could, slinging his pack onto his shoulder and setting out into the darkness, teeth gritted against the throbbing pain that swirled deep inside him. His leg trailed awkwardly behind him, useless as he staggered and stumbled forwards, limping through cave after cave, hand clutched tightly around the torch hilt as tried to find his way back to the fresh air and the sunshine. If he ever got out of this nightmare, he swore he would never take them for granted ever again. He ignored the steadily burning dust, refusing to watch the red glow inch closer to his fingers as he concentrated on moving. A small voice deep inside of him told him this was pointless, he had already been lost before he fell and now it was just useless and who was he kidding, no one would care if he just laid down and surrendered to the dead eyes that stared out at him hungrily from the shadows.
Not for the first time in his life, he wished for his sword. Or at least any kind of weapon to threaten the creatures he knew lurked deep in the darkness. But the blade had been lost in the fall, and now the only thing keeping him alive was a dim torch and their last meal. But he could sense them stirring, becoming curious about this source of light in their home of perpetual darkness. And if they decided to come for him he would be as good as dead, no weapon, no running, nowhere to run. He swallowed thickly and ploughed on and not for the first time his mind brought him back Ridge, that smirk he loved and eyes he knew so well, down to every fleck of gold. If only he had stayed and listened instead of being so hot headed he would be with him now, instead of trapped in this earthy prison. If only he had given him a chance instead of being ignoring caution and storming off. He furiously blinked away the tears that welled up in his eyes, but fear gripped at him, the terror of knowing he would die down here, that he would never see the sunshine again, or feel the wind on his face.
The first low groans emerged from the darkness around him and he sped up as much as was possible, ignoring the unbearable pain from his leg. He had to keep moving or he was dead. His body shook with exertion as he rounded yet another dark corner, torch burning dangerously low as he searched for any exit, anything to give him a chance of surviving through this hellish place. From behind him the groans grew louder, peaking as more joined the chorus of undead, intermitted by the rattle of bones or a hiss, moans and mumbles all chasing Xeph down, haunting him with the reminder of where they were coming from. He would stand no chance against them now, weaponless and broken. They were chasing him down like sharks that had caught the scent of blood, slowly closing the distance between them with their ominous lumbering shuffle.
He fell again, tumbling to the cold hard ground as his leg gave out under him, wincing as he felt his palms graze on the rough stone. He hauled himself up, panting heavily as he struggled upright before pushing himself onwards, every step laborious as he stretched his body to its limits. He paused for a moment, gathering the last of his energy before continuing on, still trying desperately to distance himself from the growing moans and groans behind him.
Then he saw it. Up ahead, the merest glimmer of light. His mind leapt with hope, drawing on new reserves of energy as he staggered the last few steps. The light was far to golden to be from the sun or moon but it was still light, illuminating the dark depths he had found himself trapped in. Even lava would be a useful light source, a trap for the lumbering monsters chasing him. He rounded the corner, barely noticing as the damp stone turned into rotting wooden planks beneath his feet, as the last of his redstone torch burnt down, singeing his fingers as he gasped in pain and dropped it. Then he noticed.
An abandoned mine shaft.
An abandoned mine shaft, filled with torches.
An abandoned mine shaft that had to lead to the surface somewhere.
His heart jumped in his chest. Maybe there was hope after all. He limped into the centre of the shaft, careful not trip over the twisted metal of the broken cart rails. He was safe for a moment here, the brilliance of the torches enough to ward off the creatures that lurked in the darkness for a moment at least. He breathed heavily, shoulders sagging under the weight of an invisible burden before he chose a direction and began walking, brushing aside a few stray cobwebs that stirred and drifted in the slight breeze and clung to him like a second skin, gossamer strands stretching out and searching for him like eyeless tentacles. Plumes of dust rose up in murky clouds from the rotten boards beneath his feet, creaking and groaning with every step he took, and the pillars supporting the overhead beams buckled and splintered with the pressure of holding up the earth above. It was dangerous, but well lit and gave him a better chance of finding his way back to the surface.
He soon began to realise he'd picked the wrong path. The cobwebs around him grew into thick ropey walls of sticky string that wrapped themselves around him and choked in his lungs. He had grabbed one of the still flaming torches from the wall of the shaft and was burning his way through them but it was slow progress. He should have turned back but he didn't know if he would get far enough with his leg, besides the creatures would have no doubt left the comfort of the darkness and were pursuing him again. He had to keep going forwards and hoping. His grimy clothes were swathed in long strings of the web, matting with his bloodied hair. He wiped his eyes again and plunged through another wall of web, trying to ignore the glowing pinpricks that watched him from the crevices, to ignore the hissing that had started up, to ignore the faint moans that had reappeared behind him. All hope of escape was gone again, swept away on a tide of raw fear, fear that lent him the strength to keep going despite the growing pain emanating from his leg. If he could just find the exit ...
His heart stopped.
A dead end.
The tunnel had buckled under the pressure, tons of rock and wood collapsing forward to seal off the path in front of him. He lurched forwards, hands scrabbling frantically at the gravelly wall in front of him but only a few small stones clattered to the floor. A sob choked him, tears welling up in his eyes again. He didn't bother wiping them away.
This wasn't how it was meant to be. He wasn't supposed to die alone and forgotten in some deep dark tunnel miles underground, a rotting carcass to be feasted on until nothing remained. But here he was.
He spun around in a last ditch attempt to save himself, only to be greeted by a sea of furry legs and disgustingly beady eyes. There were too many here, he'd never make it. Mandibles clacked hungrily and drooled as they eyed him up, their next meal, legs skittering over the wood. Behind them, hunched the undead, sickly skin stretched taut over yellowed bones, gaping maws and dull, dead eyes watching him glassily as the moaned with a pain they no longer felt, torn clothes hanging from their broken bodies, blood stained from the last foolish explorer who had entered into these mines. He resisted the urge to retch at the stench of death and dried blood that rose up to meet him, shrivelled muscles opening and closing mouths with gurling squelches as they shuffled closer to his tantalisingly living, breathing body as if they too could hear his heart thumping in his chest. Even a few skeletons, necromancers pets, stood mingled in with them, bare skulls grinning as empty eyes sockets turned towards him, bows drawn taut with rusty arrows. There they stood, hordes of them, watching and waiting hungrily, knowing there was no escape for him, no way out.
This was it.
He forced himself to stay calm and think but raw panic filled him mind telling him to fight, to run, to freeze, to accept his death graciously.
He couldn't, wouldn't give up. He had too much to live for, his friends, his work ... Ridge. He stood there for a moment and swore on his life that if he ever got out of this he would listen, give him another chance, forgive him.
If he ever got out of this.
The first spider took a step forwards, red eyes fixed upon him as it clashed its fangs hungrily. Xephos took a step back. It hissed angrily, spit flying out of its maw as poison dripped down to the floor. Everything stood still.
A single arrow whizzed towards him. He shifted out of its path before realising his mistake. It was too late. Pain shot through his leg and crackled behind his eyes in dancing white spots, and he felt the arrow lodge itself in his shoulder, muscles burning around the metal head as a cry tore itself from his lips. He stumbled, back landing heavily against the rockfall. The sickening sea of creatures surged forward, almost as one, grasping and grabbing at him with cold dead hands, clammy flesh tearing and ripping at him. Fangs sunk into his legs, sharp points of pain that pumped venom into his blood, sending his vision spiralling and his head throbbing, hands clawing at him as teeth gnashed had sunk into his skin. Arrows shot towards him, stabbing through his clothes and piercing his skin, ripping and tearing at him as they bore down upon him, an endless wall of hungry death. He scrambled back at them, screaming over the din of hisses and groans and rattles as he squeezed himself into the corner behind him, hands hastily reaching into his pack and grasping around for anything, anything to save himself. His fingers clasped around a few wooden planks, enough to build up a quick defence, swiftly sealing himself inside the tiny space. He held his breath as he closed of the top of the area, plunged immediately into a choking darkness. He slid down to the floor, ignoring the pain that spiked in every part of his body, yanking out the arrows embedded in his limbs, tears slipping down his cheeks as he cried. This was it, his tomb. Behind the thin wooden boards the noise continued, growing louder as bony hands clawed at his defences, hairy legs scratching angrily and hissing. He ignored it all, feeling the chilling numbness creeping through him, warm blood trickling down his face. His mind slipped away from him, filling with the void of comforting darkness. The pain ebbed away, growing distant as he curled up, blood seeping out and pooling him around him, eyes finally drifting shut as he let go, surrendering himself to the pain free depths of comatose paralysis.
~
Worry didn't cover the feelings inside Ridge. There were no words for the fear that gripped at him with cold hands, no words to explain the terror that was suffocating him, no words for the anguish that was tormenting him. It was all his fault. If he'd have just said something ... He had thought it was better to give him time and and space, but he'd been missing for a day and no one had seen him since their argument.
He should have explained. Apologised. Anything.
It hurt him, knowing that even he with all his his power could do nothing to find him.
He had scoured the world, searching for him as images built up in his mind, Xephos dead, dying, drowned, body broken and twisted into gruesome shapes, blue eyes dull and lifeless, missing that spark that Ridge loved, wanted, need to see again. He, the great and mighty Ridgedog, was panicking, mind swept away on a tide of raw emotions that burned within him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t pause, not until he found him and swept him into his arms and apologised to him and showed him that he was wrong and he loved him.
When he found him.
If he found him.
He banished those thoughts to the deepest darkest corners of his mind and continues searching, searching for the only man he could ever love.
He had to find him.
~
He did find him eventually. He had searched, incessantly, until time was lost to him.
He found him, bruised and broken, twice as worse as any image his twisted imagination could conjure up. He had been scouring the abandoned mine shafts that wound their dark passages through the earth, obliterating every dead thing that stood in his way. He had searched everywhere. Searched until there was nowhere left to look, nowhere but the bowels of the earth infested with things that crawled and slunk through the darkness. Not that they bothered Ridge. He swept through them, cutting them down in swathes as his heart pounded and his blood sang a tune of death in his ears, boots crunching heavily through the carpeted of bones and rotten flesh at his feet. Then he had seen it. The little missmatched box of wood and cobble, stuck into the corner, surrounded by the shambling moans of undead creatures. He spared them no mercy. Soon there were none left, nothing but a pile of rotten corpses garnished with the hairy legs of cave spiders. He strode quickly to the tiny structure, eyes burning as he ripped its flimsy form to shreds.
He stopped.
He was curled up, clothes soaked through with his own dried blood, dark brown stains that blended in with the grime that had coated itself on his clothes and hair. His eyes were open, blank and dull orbs that sat motionless in sunken sockets. Ridge had always thought himself beyond the emotions that mortals pent up inside of themselves, but in that moment his heart stopped. As he stared down over the cold lifeless corpse of the only man he loved his heart broke, shattering like glass into a thousand fragile pieces. He was dead. He was too late. He should have said something, anything but he was dead. He felt numb, cold and hot at the same time, hands shaking as his heart crawled its way into his throat. He felt paralysed, lost and broken, a ship without a captain lost on stormy seas. He swallowed thickly and pushed away the tears that welled up behind his lashes. He wouldn’t cry. He would find a way to fix him, to apologise, to mend him and push life back into him, just to see his beautiful features light up again. He stood there for a second before bending stiffly, almost as if he was outside of his body, an onlooker looking down on this whole terrible scene. Carefully he scooped the broken body in front of him into his arms, cradling the cold figure in his arms as his tears fell hotly on to torn clothes and scabbing wounds.
Then he felt it. A heart beat. So weak it was barely noticeable, but it was still there. Relief washed over him in cool waves, calming his thumping heart. He was alive. Barely, but alive. Ridge had a chance, a chance to make this better, to bridge the gaps and right the mistake that he had made. So many mistakes … How had he ever let him go like this? He stepped back, ignoring the sickening crunch of brittle bones and rotten flesh beneath his boots as he made his way out of the mine shaft, silently thanking what ever power out that there had given him a second chance. Notch knows he didn’t deserve it.
~
Blinding light flooded into the crack between his eyelids, brilliantly white as it seared through his skull and burned into brain. He screwed his eyes shut, flinching, and tried to sit up, as pain stabbed through him, worse than any knife, pulsing through his nerves and building up at the front of his head. A shadow fell across him, blocking out the light with beautiful darkness, as soft lips pressed themselves into his forehead, a familiar spark tingling across his skin.
‘Ridge …’ He sounded awful, croaky and hoarse, voice like sandpaper rubbing over gravel.
‘Ssh, don’t try to talk Xeph, you’re still in a pretty bad way.’ He pushed his eyes open at the familiar smooth tones, ignoring the pain as light flooded in and they focused, white receding as darker shaped swam into view. He was in their room, tucked into the huge bed, bright morning sunlight cascading in through the large windows and highlighting everything with a golden glow. Ridge was slumped on the edge of the bed, body hunched over with a weariness Xeph hadn’t know he could feel. He looked lost, hair lank and clothes dishevelled. He barely looked like the Ridge Xephos knew, the confident man who flounced around with a sly grin. He paused before gritting his teeth and pushing himself up against the plump pillows behind him until he was half-sitting, aching pain subsiding into a dull throb.
‘Ridge ...’ Swallow. ‘Ridge, what happened?’ He turned to face him, giving Xeph a full view of his pale skin, sunken eyes filled with tiredness, a bitter laugh filling his ears.
‘What happened? I drove you away and you nearly died, and have been unconscious for nearly a month. Everyone has been worried sick.’ He let that sink in as blurred memories dredged themselves up from the darkness of his mind. Almost a month ...’
‘The caves ...’
‘Yes I know. I found you eventually. Notch knows what you had been doing, but you were in a very bad way. For a moment I thought-’ Ridge turned away. He didn’t need to continue, Xeph knew what he meant. ‘You weren’t, but you were still in a bad way. A very bad way. You had lost a lot of blood, poisoned, too many broken bones to count. Some thought you wouldn’t make it.’ They thought he would die. ‘I didn’t give up but it got hard … You didn’t look like you were going to make it.’
‘Ridge … Ridge ...’
‘And it was all my fault … I should never have driven you to that point, never should have left you to turn away, never should have let you slip through my fing-’ He kissed him, hard. It was the only real way to shut Ridge up.
‘Never apologies for my own mistakes. I was the one who wouldn’t listen remember. I deserved what I had coming.’
‘Xeph, no I-’ He placed a finger weakly to his lips, ignoring the pain that coiled around his spine.
‘I’m sorry. Now, go and have a shower. You need it.’ He sunk back into the pillows as he watched a smile, a roper full and beautiful smile, grace Ridge’s lips.
‘Yes darling, of course. I suppose I’ll have to wait until you are a little better before you can take one with me hm?’ And just like that he was back, his Ridge, the Ridge he loved. They both had their faults and imperfections, but that was what made them beautiful. They stumbled and made mistakes, tiny cracks in their memories, but then again, didn’t everyone?
Whoo a fic! This was from when I got slightly depressed earlier and decided to take it out on Xephos :4 I’m a bad person.
Anyway, I still have 2 other Ridgephos fics to get done on Tuesday at some point but for now have this to tide you over
Words: 1105
Warnings: Angst, SELF-HARM
I can not stress more that this fic is based around self harm, even if it is a tad ambiguous, so if this triggers you please please do not read
~
Ridge found everything eventually, no matter how well he tried to hide it. He seemed to have an uncanny knack of recovering objects, even from the most unusual places Xephos could think of, what ever it was, from ice cream to his coat to Christmas presents, it was guaranteed he would stumble on it. It didn’t stop Xephos from trying, but it became more difficult with every day that went by, once they started dating, then nearly impossible when they moved in with each other. At first he would hardly let Ridge touch him, nothing more than holding hands and kissing. It hurt him to see the pained look held deep in those burnished orbs, the confused expression that flickered over Ridge’s perfect features every time he tried to take it further only to be pushed away. It must have been hard for him, to hold back and go slow but he managed somehow and Xeph was grateful to him for not pushing it. But even more guilty. It was obvious that Ridge thought he was the one doing something wrong.
He stayed quiet.
Ridge had cracked eventually and asked him, but he dodged the questions that flew at him like razor sharp arrows. Ridge had sighed but only laced his fingers with Xeph’s. It happened again when Ridge brushed against him and he flinched away. More questions came then, more avoiding and hiding and blatant lying. But he couldn’t know the truth. He would leave if he knew, knew the cursed broken thing he said he loved. He would and Xeph couldn’t take that. If he left he would fall again, deeper than ever before. He didn’t know if he’d make it out this time.
The first time they made love to each other he insisted it was in the dark. It was risky, but it was obvious what Ridge wanted, needed, and if he didn’t get it he would leave. He couldn’t leave. He was Xeph’s only life lie and he had to cling to him for all he was worth. Ridge had agreed, outwardly elated, but the pain was still there, buried deep in his eyes. He hid it well.
They had joined then, closer than ever before but it was dangerous. Ridge didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to place his hands on Xeph, why he flinched, why his cheeks were wet when his thumbs brushed gently over them. He could never know. He would leave. He couldn’t leave. At least after Ridge seemed happier, more content to hold his hand and flutter kisses across his lips. It still hurt Xeph to turn down his invites of showers and see that hurt look on his face, but it was necessary. He was doing well, how long had they been together> And Ridge was still there, not disgusted, not gone, even if it meant he only changed behind locked doors and satisfied Ridge in the darkness that hid him and all his imperfections.
They grew distant, Ridge always wanting to go that one step further and Xeph always politely declining. He couldn’t blame him. He changed tack, surprising Ridge after work one day with a few lengths of rope and a blindfold. His body ached and burned afterwards, but Ridge was happier again, smiling and presenting Xeph with the charred remains of something once edible that evening. Xeph had smiled slightly and rolled his eyes, pulling out their various take-away menus. At least Ridge enjoyed it, that was the important thing. And that he wasn’t leaving. It went on that way for a while, and for a moment Xeph truly believed he could do it, forever.
It couldn’t last.
It didn’t.
Ridge was too good at finding things, even by accident.
He shouldn’t have grown complacent.
He shouldn’t have left Ridge confused and curious.
He shouldn’t lied.
He had been changing, as always, locked in the bathroom. At least, he thought the door was locked. He heard the grind of the handle too late, turning towards the door as it swung open, agonisingly slowly in his eyes to show Ridge, standing there, eyes resting on his slim frame. For a moment he looked overjoyed, face lighting up as if Xeph had finally trusted him and this whole horrible scene wasn’t a stupid, stupid accident. He scrabbled frantically for clothes, for something, anything, to hide behind. It was too late, always far too late. He hung his head as Ridge stood there, frozen, joy gone from his face, washed away by a tide of pure anger.
He was going to leave. This was it.
Time seemed to drag by as he stepped forward and tugged the t-shirt out of his hands, revealing the body behind it again. His eyes burned like the sun, boring down into Xeph, glowering and smouldering with fury. The questions began. Who did this to you? Why didn’t you tell me? Is this why you hide away? Is this why you flinch? Why? Why?
He was going to leave. Who would want to be with such a wretched, repulsive creature?
A sigh. The questions stopped. He braced himself, eyes already blurring treacherously. This was it. He risked a glance upwards, a tear slipping wetly over his lashes. A thumb gently brushed the tear away as blue eyes met gold ones, overflowing with sadness and kindness and something he could only describe as love. Ridge leant forwards and pressed his lips to Xeph’s and held him close as his body shook with tears. Strong fingers trailed over his skin, tracing over every raised line, over every white scar that crisscrossed over skin as pale as snowflakes, reverently, murmuring soft comforting words into his ear. At first he flinched away, head crowded with raw jagged memories of cool metal and pain blossoming and hot crimson liquid and the way it trickled down over his skin, but Ridge persisted, showering him with love until they faded and he finally relaxed into the warm arms that encircled him. Ridge mapped out every one, found all of them, even the oldest, barely noticeable marks from when his father’s voice still rang in his ears, long since overlapped. He found them all, worshipped them, pressed his lips along every defect and imperfection that Xeph shunned. He tried to explain, voice hoarse with tears as the words stuck in his throat and tumbled over his lips but Ridge hushed him. Another time perhaps. For them he was safe and loved, no longer a glitch, a marr, a stain, a deformity.
Because when Ridge looked at him, all he saw was beauty.
