Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What does it feel like to be Gepard Landau?”

Gepard himself wasn't sure. When people asked what it was like, to be a Landau, to be the captain of the Silvermane Guards, to be his family's heir- he was always answering with the same disinterested smile that it was his role, a role he had to fulfill no matter his own thoughts.

So, he answered that exact same sentence; but the man laughed at him.

“Don't answer me with those fabricated words.”

When his only friend had reacted that way, he forced himself to truly and deeply think about an appropriate answer.

“... I do not know. I can't really choose what it feels like.” was the only correct way of expressing who really was Gepard Landau.

“Heh, toldja you couldn't hide anything from me. So, that's a new rule! Don't ever answer anything else than the real truth. Only to me, alright?”

Since that day, he had made the promise to never lie again to Sampo Koski.

“Sampo Koski, you are under arrest!”

He had heard that sentence way too many times.

He brought his gloved hand to his ear and closed his eyes; this particular sweet voice had always been a true delight. A crooked smile found his way on his lips, “finally” was his first thought. That special moment was the one he was waiting for, everyday, like a pleasurable melody giving rhythm to his nonsensical life.

Gepard finally arrived in front of him, out of breath. When he noticed at a glance that the criminal was way too high for him to catch him with bare hands–he didn't even know how–he calmed down, sighing. Their eyes met for a moment, and the youngest knew Sampo was enjoying seeing him exhausted. The cold wind was hitting their faces, the only noises animating their motionless bodies were the Captain’s exaggerated breathings and the distant liveliness of the city.

“Took you some time, Geppie.” He lifted his own weight so he could be sat; the criminal had been hanging by his feet from a random balcony for some minutes, now. He took out of his pocket the money he had just collected under the guards’ noses, in order to taunt the other, and began to count the bills.

“Were you waiting so you could humiliate me?” the other didn't quite enjoy that kind of joke. The conman only chuckled, which made him lose his temper. “What did you sell, Koski?!”

“Sampo Koski’s specialty! A businessman never reveals his secrets, my dear Captain.”

“Get down.”

“Come and catch me.”

Sampo smiled from ear to ear, his jade-eyes staring at the Landau, waiting for his next move. It was an invitation, a challenge; but the other would not fall for it. The blond haired slowly put his weapon on the floor, not taking his eyes off the other.

“If I’m paying for today’s lunch, will you tell me?”

“Negotiating with criminals, now? Aren’t you a little unserious?” of course he didn't say no immediately; that proposal was exactly why he'd been taunting him.

“Yes or No?” Gepard impatiently hit his weapon on the floor. Ice started spreading beneath it; Sampo knew he could easily climb if he wanted to.

The fool answered with a laugh. “You know where to find me.”

He maybe could have try to catch him. Deep down, he maybe just wanted to find excuses. After all- as long as he had the intel he needed, he didn't really care about how he obtained them.

…

“Robot pieces…?”

Sampo nodded multiple times, then put in his mouth another bite of that delicious-looking meat covered in pepper sauce. Gepard, while holding his head between his hands, let out a long sigh. Did he really pay for lunch, only to have that negligible information? It honestly was starting to give him a migraine.

“The defechtive pieches that Chlara can’t ushe anymore are shend to ush”, he then swallowed his mouthful, “and the amazing Sampo Koski is in charge of selling them to the curious overworld’s engineers! We then have enough to buy missing equipment for the clinic. I offered Natasha to “find” what she needed for free, but she refused. Don’t know why…”

The Captain raised his head, and couldn't retain a smile. He observed him eating any old how; holding his knife in his left hand, putting sauce everywhere on his lips’ outlines. He wiped the conman’s chin, a thing he usually did with his younger sister. “Don’t act like you're innocent. I know you sometimes do illegal stuff.”

“What-?! You don’t even believe me?”

“Who would believe someone like you?”

While listening to Sampo’s protests, Gepard finally began to eat his own dish. He couldn't exactly explain why he got along well with his lifelong enemy, nor why having him in his life was making the latter less monotonous. Surely it was because of his laugh, his unserious demeanor, or his innumerable experiences and stories to tell- but the Captain would gladly spend some hours during the week with him, to take his mind off things.

“Hey, Geppie.”

“Go ahead.” He put his phone on the table, after he finished reading his sister’s messages. His phone started to ring, but he denied the call; how could he breathe himself, if he answered during his meals?

“Tonight, there will be some shooting stars. And, I thought…”, the blue-haired man cleared his throat, his cheeks turning pink. “Maybe we could look at them together?”

“Why not.”

Sampo wore a wide smile, and continued his previous act; eating with pleasure, even more when he didn't have to pay. His Captain could give him anything for free; and the criminal would be under his heels without hesitation!

Gepard stared at him, amused, and hundreds of thoughts went through his mind. They all were about his friend, about them, about their encounters and how they became that close. He had faced some difficulties in accepting how important Sampo Koski was for him, before; however, at that specific moment, he couldn't even deny that he was. His feelings were facts .

He couldn't deny he was excited to see him again that night.

… Wait. Feelings?

He slowly widened his eyes, noticing that he had been staring at him for a few minutes with a big smile like an idiot.

Since when do I have feelings?

It was the question he asked himself, when he realized that he really liked his friend. He was then struck with undeniable shame when he became aware that those feelings had probably been there for a while, that he had indeed fallen into “loving” Sampo Koski. He still preferred to have doubts and not rush things, because he didn't really know how to describe this situation.

Gepard had never loved.

He then glanced at the criminal's gloved hand, holding his cutlery with skill, and couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be touched by Sampo Koski. No one had ever approached him, because he was unapproachable; but the blond would sacrifice a lot of things to have someone on this damn planet who “loved” him.

Gepard had never been loved.

Still, the Landau had no right to lie to his friend. Thus, he decided to tell everything that night, even if he wasn't waiting for a particular answer. His confession would only be to lighten his conscience and have Sampo’s point of view on the situation.

Whatever those feelings were, he wasn't sure if having them was a good idea. He didn't have any idea on how he was supposed to react to that revelation.

“And then, I hit him in the face, and he goes “Koski, give me my money back!”, and I said “You mean my money?”, and then he took his knife out, aiming for my thigh- And then, kaboom!”

Sampo mimicked an explosion, to show he had used his bombs right after whatever happened before that. Gepard couldn't bring himself to ask for details, although a lot of questions should be asked; who was that man? Why did he have his money? When did he escape? By the way, his friend didn't even explain when he got that injury, forcing the blond-haired to carry him in his arms. His speech was entirely incoherent, deconstructed, as if someone was reading a book and skipping pages. He was going back on his words, mimicking nonsensical dialogues, like he had just hit his head. The youngest was used to those kinds of accounts, he knew it was how he spoke when he was excited.

He nodded in response, and Sampo put his left arm around his neck, his right arm being used as a mime to tell his fabulous story; the other lifted him a little, his agitation was beginning to make him slip. Of course the wound he had on his thigh wasn't preventing him from walking, but the criminal would do anything to have his dear captain’s attention. Being carried like he weighed nothing was the best form of love he could receive. Gepard had figured it out, and it was for that same reason he was carrying him like a damsel in distress, not on his back like he would normally do with an injured person.

“You’re hopeless. Why didn't you take care of your wound before joining me? You're lucky I have a first-aid kit at home.”

“Yeahhh… How could I ever do anything without you?”

Sampo put his lips on his cheeks, making the blond groan and promise to throw him on the floor if he did it again. He felt his phone vibrating, ignoring this incoming call, too busy taking care of that menace.

Gepard had been working overtime a lot lately, but every hour of sleep he had missed was rewarded with reassurance that everyone was safe. The Supreme Guardian was working day and night for these new constructions to come, and guards were running almost everywhere around Belobog; nevertheless, their captain had only one idea in mind: to protect every inhabitant, every human being of this city at the risk of his own life.

That evening, he had returned home two hours late, and had noticed that his bedroom window was open.

And that was how he had found his injured friend, who actually seemed very proud of him. Why would he be proud to be wounded? He had absolutely no idea. He had tried to take him to the clinic, but Sampo had insisted on not missing the beginning of the shooting stars, using as an argument that the injury was superficial.

However, now that they were heading towards the “superb spot” that he knew, that fool suddenly needed to be carried!

How could the Landau say no to his friend, when he had just realized he had feelings for him? He felt weak and powerless; refusals seemed forbidden, his voice felt like it should think before every word. He wanted to spoil him, to treat him like a princess and to comply with all his requests; but it would be catastrophic, if the captain of the guards accepted his best friend's crimes because he had trouble saying no to him.

So what? What harm would it do to carry in his arms the most wanted criminal of the town? These questions about his own morality were a headache for the next day.

Qlipoth save me. I think I have fallen for Sampo Koski.

The two enemies had finally settled on the roof of an old building, far from the invasive light of the city center. Gepard had seen this place many times, but the view always took his breath away. An ocean of stars, of white lights trying to swim in the most interstellar void possible. A grouping of other planets, other worlds and other human beings from elsewhere, of “suns”, “satellites” and “constellations”; of billions of things that he had never known or understood, that his friend had only taught him. Sampo apparently learned everything through ancient books he found here and there.

Suddenly, it felt nostalgic. He felt jealous, demanding, wanting to see more than eternal winter. The sky held a special place in his heart, although he was usually associating it with his own lack of freedom.

“Do you think Belobog will see the sun, one day?”

Sampo laughed. “Of course! You can already see a bunch of ‘em! Every star you see is a sun, y'know?”

“Yeah, but… I mean, it looks so far away.”

“It is. Well- How about we make the promise to go and see the stars from a closer look, one day?”

“Seems like an impossible thing.”

It was like he couldn't. Gepard's future was already written, and there was no way he would someday see anything else than the walls he was told to stay between. The criminal had trouble finding what to say, so he ended up touching his hand. The blond interlaced their fingers in response.

Many stars and many other living things might be looking at them, but he could only see one thing.

At that moment, I could only see Sampo.

The universe stopped, and during this short pause Gepard asked himself thousands of questions about the relevance of what he was going to say. He thought of every consequence, every scenario that could end badly, every possible reaction from his friend. That whole internal monologue passed like the credits of a movie, largely ignored by the blond who just wanted to get it over with. His hand tightened on his, and he wondered for half a second if he hadn't gone crazy, too.

He should ask him, he had to ask him if his feelings were legitimate.

“...I have something to ask you.”

The fool’s gaze drifted away from his passion, turning towards the one who had just spoken. His face was suddenly downward, pulled by gravity, as if he had just guessed what was coming. The blond seemed to hesitate for a second, since nothing he had predicted resembled this face. Sampo's eyes stared at him impatiently, his lips were sealed, his face turned pale. Gepard knew that his friend was an expert in changing his face so quickly, like he was performing in a theater- he had learned not to give importance to what seemed weird about him.

To be honest, he wasn't even sure about what Sampo felt, at this point. His torn visage stretched again, his smile rose, like his cheeks were pulled by fingers. This interlude had lasted short seconds, maybe not even one; but Gepard couldn't focus on anything else. The unbidden fear his friend just shared with him made him hesitate.

Is it legitimate, really…?

“...I…”

It took a second of that hesitation, and he missed the rush that could free him from this declaration. His thoughts came back to haunt him, and his courage was long gone without him. His phone rang for the umpteenth time that day, forcing him to leave the momentum which led to a frightened Sampo.

“...I have to answer.”

“Gep–”

Gepard decided to not let him finish, walking away with his phone in hand, heading back down from the roof. He held his hand close to his ribcage, as if he was finally coming out of an extremely suffocating situation that had almost made him pass out. The aura that emanated from Sampo Koski was far stronger than his; his emotions seemed multiplied by millions, his being seemed several. He had sometimes been drawn into his cheerful play, laughing at random situations; but he had never faced such ephemeral negativeness.

He finally looked at his phone screen, although he knew who had been calling him since the beginning of the day. He closed his eyes. He knew he could no longer run away from his responsibilities for one more call- so he put on his perfect son suit.

If Sampo was an actor, he was no better.

“Gepard. You know how many times I have called you?” that deep and strict voice went into his ear, not leaving his whole head. It was resonating and haunting his every thought; the walls appeared once again, the ice became unmeltable, the shield unbreakable.

"I am sorry. I was at work, and–”

“I do not care. First, you miss this evening's gathering; and then, you deliberately refuse to answer.”

It would be a lie to say that he hadn’t done it on purpose, truly. However, the blond had never promised to tell the truth to anyone else.

“Everyone was wondering when you were going to have children.”

“Children?" his eyes slowly opened more, troubled. He hadn't realized it was already about time. He had been focused on his work, his oath, his people– he didn't know his family was still waiting for more. Honestly, he had been wishing his father forgot about the "progeny" thing; but of course he didn't. He suddenly felt dumb. Dumb, because he had been having random feelings, because he had been avoiding his role of Heir, because he thought his father would never ask for anything else from him.

Sampo was easily making him forget his life didn't entirely belong to himself.

"I... I do not have the time, because of work." was the only answer he found, to evade whatever he had to do.

“Enough of this.” the son gulped as he heard him bang his fist against the table. His actions were opposite to his calm, stern voice; he knew that his father was only trying to intimidate him, and not necessarily to scare him. However, he was displease with that simple call– displeased about hearing the words he did not want to hear, and displeased about being reminded of what he would like to forget.

“You know what happens to Landaus that are disappointing like you?”

In those chilly barren streets, Gepard could only hear the beating of his heart. Apprehension consumed him, everything ceased to exist, but he knew how to act. He knew how to create a smile, create a confident voice, and create the whole being that Gepard Landau should be. Every second away from the only person who allowed him to be what he wanted plunged him back into this character that his family had created.

He knew the words his father was going to say, he knew he was only trying to bring him back under his control and that it worked. The blond had learned to ignore, to act like he was deaf.

“We do as your mother did. Do you want me to remind you of what happened?”

These words played over and over in his head. It might have been the third, tenth, or twentieth time he had heard this speech, but it still sounded the same.

“...No, father, there is no need for that.” his weak voice stayed still. He had promised himself not to fall back into the spiral of trauma that his father reminded him of, in order to “keep him on the right path”; but once again, he didn't have enough courage to respond.

What was he even thinking?

Why would Gepard Landau accept he had sullied feelings?

Why would it be legitimate?

He passed his gloved fingers on his forehead, wiping cold sweat from it. He wasn't feeling terrified at all; he was used to it, and it usually took more than threats for him to shiver.

Nonetheless, his father was right, and he wasn't ignorant enough to not know that.

“I hope you do understand that it is for your well-being. You are too fragile to know how to handle your own life; that is why you should never do anything that could upset your family again. Did I make myself clear?”

“You did, father.”

“You need to find a wife before next year. You are already thirty.”

“I-I… I did find someone, actually–”

“Is she able to have children?”

Gepard froze. After all this dumb conversation, he still wanted to try, to know, and to be sure. Words were coming out of his mouth on their own, desperately. He only needed to hear someone's opinion, anyone's opinion. “... No, he is not.”

He rarely had ever heard his father laugh, but whenever it had happened, it had always been followed by physical confrontation; and he thanked Qlipoth he wasn't having that conversation face to face.

“Do I sound in the mood to hear those kinds of ungracious jokes? Do better, and be better.”

When the oldest hung up, Gepard finally released his breath, as well as his role. As he decided to get rid of this act, he noticed that nothing changed; the world remained the same, his skin shivered as if something was entering beneath it. It seemed to him that painful memories were trying to resurface, but none came clearly to him. Something whose shape he couldn't understand clung to him, and it was only then that the blond understood that he had, actually, not left his role. The ice didn't melt, the walls grew closer.

His every thought disappeared from his mind; he only wanted to redeem himself, to erase his past mistakes. He thought his father didn't have any power over him anymore, he thought his relationship with his best friend was more powerful than anything his family could do to him- but his genitor knew what to say, what to remind him. He knew his every weakness and he knew when to exploit them.

He had learned for months how to act and get rid of this imposed role; only for all those efforts to be shattered by a brief "back to reality". He had moved away way too much from what he had to do.

To ensure that nothing like this would happen again, Gepard promised himself to never love Sampo Koski. It sealed away his unwanted feelings forever, and this whirlwind of anxiety on the inside was expressed by a single breath on the outside. In hindsight, it was probably not reasonable nor legitimate feelings, he surely was too desperate to be loved, and grew attached to the first person he saw.

He later returned to his friend, who seemed tense. He didn't even wait until he was fully sat, seeming impatient.

“So? What were you gonna say?”

Gepard could only see a smile rising; he was under the impression that the whole world was listening to him, that every sentence he could utter would be judged by tens of beings represented by Sampo Koski. He smiled in return.

And he lied.

“Nothing important.”

Chapter Text

"Whatcha lookin’ at?"

Gepard abruptly hid his phone screen, visibly embarrassed. He frowned at the blue haired man’s comments whose obvious reaction was to laugh at it.

The latter then put aside the white fuzzy blanket which was covering the other's cold body, and snuck himself beneath it like a small animal trying to find comfort and warmth in its nest. The captain took the remote that was sitting on the table in his hand, and turned on the television quickly, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere.

"I signed in that new meeting application, you know." Gepard suddenly found his home decoration very captivating. Sampo stared at the TV screen in which he quickly lost interest, wondering if he should make fun of him or hold it back. The thin fingers of the other were playing with the remote's buttons, distracting the conman.

"And? Didja find somethin interesting?", Gepard finally looked at him, turning his body to face him. He took a moment to slowly breathe out, in order to purge the stress that had been traveling him. He answered with a smile: "I don't know... I'm having trouble finding someone I would like to meet."

"I mean… Guess what! I'm right there!", Gepard's strict face scowled at him, and the friend immediately understood that he should shut his mouth. He overacted the pain this reaction inflicted him, crying fake tears; but in reality, the situation was more hilarious to him than painful. He wasn't mad at Gepard for being so cold with him, because who was He to ask for more? The criminal had been insinuating himself into his life, until they reached that "ambiguous" stage.

He was trying day and night to send tons of signals to the blond man, and the other one could answer to those same signals without understanding the depth of them. Sampo had lost count of the times Gepard had said mind-blowing things, such as "With you, it’s different", and many other sentences that made him internally scream.

All Sampo did was try! He tried to approach him during his free time, out of his patrols, and they ended up talking more and more frequently in the Belobog streets in which they just chased each other. He tried asking him out to eat together for lunch, and they ended up eating together by default. He tried venturing the idea that he wouldn't be against seeing what his place looked like. And Gepard invited him.

Everything began like this; he tried a hug. He tried a kiss on the cheek to tease him. Anything he tried led them to an undeniable "friendship", and he didn't even know how. He didn't even really want to be friends, at first! He just wanted to receive his attention, to touch, to be touched. He wanted to get close to the Captain of the guards like it was a stupid bet with his own ego.

It seemed that all the things that revolved around them turned amicable. He was desperate to be more intimate with his dear captain, but it couldn't be helped; they were already close enough, physically intertwined almost every time they saw each other. It just turned out as a habit: they both needed to be held by someone.

Sampo was really wondering if he should try more, sometimes. The captain had allowed himself to be approached a lot since the beginning of the year, and he didn't want to scare him off or go beyond what he wanted. A relationship in which he could have his dear Captain's attention shouldn't be serious- Sampo despised when things turned that way. When something turned serious, there was no place to laugh. He was only a touch-starved idiot, after all.

He was having a lot of fun in this, and his only goal was to get him to fall for him- he just wanted to break that shield, to prove how easy Gepard was!

But he was, in fact, not easy at all. He knew the ice walls surrounding him wouldn't fall by just pushing them.

The last weeks had been more and more ambiguous- to the point where a real tension was present above their heads and into their hearts. It was like a bet, finally; who was going to go beyond their limits, first? Who was going to kiss the other first? Sampo could become crazy, with how many times a day Gepard was manhandling him like it was nothing. A single string was tight between them, the boundary of whatever their next step was was becoming blurry.

The warmth they shared was stronger than anything he ever experienced. Besides, he was not the type of guy to think for too long- nothing will have any importance, everything will have the same nonsensical ending, and only the beings devoid of intelligence would seek a meaning in this never-ending spinning relationship. Everything should be an amusing show! Having fun was all he asked, and Gepard was, indeed, fun.

"Ah", that sound made the blue-haired man raise his head, then check the phone screen turning on in front of his eyes. When he saw the notification appearing, coming from the much-vaunted meeting app telling him he just received a private message, Sampo gave him a discreet look of disapproval—maybe because he was jealous.

He truly didn't understand the firm will to find someone that Gepard had. Every action he was doing were utterly contradictory with what he had always been saying: he was too busy for someone, not interested, not enough time, not enough desire.

"Why would I bother sharing my life with someone else while I already have someone like you to keep me company?", he had told him, emphasizing on "someone like you" to imply that he was his friend, just as much as his enemy. That certain someone had laughed, so loud that Gepard thought he was crazy.

The heartache he felt forced him to sigh, and stretch. When everything started to become boring, the place of laughs turned difficult to find.

"It was nice and all, but I have an appointment soon. Work is work~!"

Gepard raised an eyebrow, "You really think I’m going to let you go? You just said you were going to do something illegal."

"Me?! Ne-ver. Not even once! You're really wounding me! Your ol’ buddy was simply trying to get the job of an honest and respectable business-man done!”

The captain sighed, then took the naked waist of the "honest business-man" in his hand.

"You aren't going anywhere." he answered, and the conman gulped. He regained his place against him, shaking his butt to be properly installed.

"I-I guess that staying a little with my dear captain is a valid reason to be late."

Gepard smiled, amused by his stuttering voice, contradicting his usual exuberant confidence. His iced eyes scrutinized the other's relaxed face, then focused again on the television showing that night's movie. Despite the migraines he gave him, the huge trouble he created amongst the guards, and the —very probably— illegal acts he carried out with impunity in the streets he was supposed to protect… The Landau had found a certain comfort in their interactions.

He was certainly feeling too alone in his everyday's life to sink so low, to the point of being able to spend time with Sampo Koski. On second thoughts though, if someone wasn't agreeing with his choices, he would say full of embarrassment that he was his only friend outside of work. Developing affection against his will was something he would had loved to avoid, but it was too late to part ways with the only one making him feel like someone else than the captain Landau.

Sometimes, Gepard wished Sampo was a woman.

_ 

The criminel had finally left.

He was now all alone in the streets. Alone with his own mind.

...

Why would you kiss your best friend on the cheek to say goodbye?!

Okay, now he was pissed. His dear captain was making their relationship more and more complicated, yet so simple at the beginning! How could he understand any of what he had been doing to him! And how could Gepard not understand what he had been doing to him!

The conman had rules to follow;

1/ They should never sleep in the same bed.

2/ Hands should not go below waistline.

3/ Absolutely no “serious” kisses.

Rules were meant to be broken- Sampo would never swear by anything else. He had tried, multiple times, to test the waters; and he had built these limits himself, according to how Gepard had reacted to them. The three of them were his next attempts, the next steps to be finally more– the next challenges he had chosen for himself.

So why did Gepard kiss him like it was nothing? Was that the green light? Did that mean he could try kissing him without saying it was a joke?

He massaged his temples, determined to pass by the clinic to ask if they had any painkillers left, the migraine he was going through being a true ordeal. He opened the front door, slamming it against the wall, attracting a look full of reproach from Natasha that rooted him to the spot. He cautiously closed that same door with a crooked smile- Sampo sometimes had a bad habit of thinking he was all alone. After all, it was how he felt ceaselessly: endlessly all alone. No one truly knew Sampo Koski, and no one wanted to know him. Sampo was unreachable, but no one wanted to reach him.

He sighed.

"Hey, Nat', err...", the blue-haired man shook his hand to greet her, avoiding cardboard boxes full of different equipment and medicines, left on the floor. The doctor seemed tired, but Sampo was wondering if he ever saw her after a full-night sleep. "Do you have an aspirin, maybe? It would help a lot."

"So you're having a migraine, again?"

"What do you mean, "again"? I'm not dyin', y'know.”

"You're having quite a lot of them, lately. You should maybe start being reasonable, and stop your foolishness, alright? I won't have painkillers everyday."

"What foolishness...? Miss Natasha- Sampo Koski would ne-ver do anything that could put in danger our dear doctor's stock of medicine. Also, that's not my fault if I'm having regular migraines! I'm kinda under the impression that no one trusts me here...!"

"Because that's the case."

The young woman sighed, and took his hand that couldn't relax for a second. She nicely opened his fingers, placing an aspirin on his palm, covered by a glove he refused to take off every time.

The criminal swallowed his saliva, cold sweat rolling down his temple. He was scared to raise his eyes, knowing that if he caught hers, he would “lose”. She was far too strong to make him speak! Sampo Koski was smart, unshakeable, independent- but the worried and accusing stare of the one he considered as a mother figure made him feel too guilty to find it fun. He could laugh at anything, but laughing at Natasha seemed too cruel.

He dared to look up for a second, then sighed as a sign of defeat. Pulling a chair next to him, he sat down crossing his legs, as a sore loser.

"Waa waa, doctor Natasha, I had a very bad evening." he said, with a weak tone. The other person in the discussion nodded, then sat down in front of him, taking advantage of that pause in her tidying rush to take care of papers. Sampo bit his lower lip, exhaling by the nose; he didn't feel like sharing his private life. Not his relationships, nor his problems caused by them. He didn't feel like saying out of the blue what was happening between Gepard and him, and he took some time to think about the wording. He was tightening his gloves, rocking on his chair.

“... How would you react, if your... Best friend? …Kisses-you-on-the-cheek-to-say-good-night-although-he-makes-all-your-advances-strictly-friendly-and-you-would-like-to-have-those-types-of-contacts-more-often?"

"How would I react if my best friend kisses me on the cheek to say good night, although he makes all my advances strictly friendly, and I would like to have those types of contacts more often?" she voluntarily spoke with a slow and loud voice so she could understand what he said.

"Shh! Don't speak so loudly, what if somebody hears-"

"HOW WOULD I REACT IF MY BEST FRIEND KISSES ME ON THE CHEEK TO SAY GOOD NIGHT ALTHOUGH HE MAKES ALL OF MY ADVANCES STRICTLY FRIENDLY AND I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE THOSE OF CONTACTS MORE OFTEN?"

Sampo slammed his hand on his forehead when he recognized the third voice which got involved in their conversation. He immediately regretted it, letting out a "ouch" due to his migraine. When the brunette opened the door with the same racket as her wildfire's colleague, Sampo pulled a face, cursing this situation. Seele pointed her finger towards him, "I heard that well?!", and the blue-haired stuck his tongue out before answering: "Clean your ears".

"Seele, wait for your turn.", Natasha smiled to the other young woman, who crossed her arms and ignored it.

"Answer's obvious! I would kiss them back, that's it!"

"You would never do such a thing." sighed Sampo.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well- would you kiss the supreme guardian back in that situation?", Seele very slowly shook her finger close to the other's face, and her voice became menacing.

"And that's where you're wrong. Don't compare our amazing friendship to... Whatever's going on inside your head." and Sampo understood that between the two protagonists he mentioned, Bronya was the one in the well-known friend zone. "Who's your "best friend" anyway? You don't even have friends."

"Being the supreme guardian mustn't be easy, with you..."

"Are you even listening?!" and Sampo crossed his arms behind his head, then answered: "Forget it."

Natasha walked towards the front door, checking if it hadn't damaged the wall behind. "Sampo, how did you react?"

The blue-haired got his memory functioning.

...

"If you really have to leave, I guess that I can't hold you back. Have a good night." Gepard gave his friend’s cheek a gentle kiss, as a way to say goodbye. Sampo took some steps back quickly, "Good night, my dear friend!", he then lifted his thumb up and ran away through the window.

...

"What the fuck was this?", Seele slammed her hand against her forehead. "I don't wanna hear you say that your friend is the one making all your advances friendly anymore, never."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?"

"Kiss him back, dumbass!"

While Seele was shaking the other from front to back, holding him by his collar, Natasha came back, sitting in front of them.

"So, are you bothered by that friendly feeling?"

"No, I just- It's just that it makes him think we can't kiss 'n all. I want him to understand my advances ain't just jokes."

“Well Sampo, that situation seems to stress you out a lot, and it would be good to talk about it with your friend. It's clearly what is causing you all those migraines."

“I can't have migraines just because of a kiss,” he shook his head, not believing a word of what he had just heard.

“Maybe because it's more than that.”

The criminal didn't add anything, as he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid that pile of fuzziness hanging out above his head. He might well think he made his intentions clear to Gepard, it seemed that his dear captain couldn't understand if he wasn’t more straightforward. On another side, Sampo could easily handle the stress, the migraines, and the stop signs he received everyday if it meant he could continue living something amusing. He was really enjoying that little game!

"Just... Promise me you are going to try."

Sampo muffled a laugh in his hand. "My dear Nat', if "trying" was enough, trust me that I wouldn't be here tonight."

“Well then, figure out your own feelings first.”

“I don't have any feelings for him, that's all. I just want him to do unspeakable things to me.” and Seele made a disgusted face in response.

“Yeah, right.” she then rolled her eyes. "Just kiss him, next time."

The conman shrugged. He supposed he could try that.

Chapter Text

Two days later, his rendez-vous arrived sooner than expected.

Gepard was going back and forth between his mirror, his wardrobe, his bed on which he threw every piece of clothes he wasn't convinced of. He didn't have a lot of clothes to begin with, just two or three jeans and two or three black turtlenecks fighting in his wardrobe- but for the few suits he had, none seemed to suit him. He still had all those he had received as presents, the ones that people had sent him while implying he should wear them if he wanted to set foot in their houses.

Now that he had to make a good first impression, he realized he hated them all. Also, Gepard wasn’t truly comfortable with first meetings. He would like to go to a fancy restaurant, but what if his date preferred something else? His worst nightmare would be the nightclub.

He would have loved to ask Sampo for his opinion on it, but he seemed busy this morning. He didn't even see his messages, and tormenting himself with that would be useless. He skillfully typed his sister's phone number, then threw the nth suit he was trying on his bed, sighing.

“Hey, Geppie! How are you?”

“Good, thanks. How about you?”

“I'm good,” she answered, putting him on speakerphone next to her craft table. Gepard could hear the distant sound of a cafetiere on. “What can I do for my baby bro?”

“Well… You see, I am going on a date this evening.”

“Congratulations, you managed to ask him!”

“Him? Yeah no, I mean- She 's the one who asked.”

“... Oh.”

Gepard could swear he felt some sort of disappointment in his sister's voice, but he decided to ignore the weight it put deep down in his throat. He gulped, as if he could swallow that appearing guilt, then continued. “I can't seem to get dressed properly. I hate every suit I have, I don't know what to do.”

"Just chose your favorite."

"Um... I don't really like any of them." Gepard gulped. Strangely enough, he never had any favorite clothes, nor any favorite color. His whole personality seemed non-existent; but it wasn't the time to think about it.

“Why? The dark blue one suits you very much, I already told you.”

“Sampo said it looks weird on me."

Serval let out a sarcastic laugh, that she muffled in a cough so she wouldn't upset her brother. “Right- You're not supposed to go on a date with him, am I wrong?”

“His opinion is still important to me.”

“Why not go ask him then? Since my opinion doesn't look as important as his…”

“Serval.”

Gepard pinched his nose bridge. Of course his sister's opinion was important to him, he wouldn't have called her if it wasn't. However, he was putting his best friend's words on the same level as his family's, it seemed absolutely logical to think that way. If one of them wasn't convinced, then he preferred finding another solution.

“He is my only close friend.”

“I know”, she quietly breathed out. “Why did you say yes to that girl? I thought you were already stressed enough with work. You've always told me you couldn't share that life with someone.”

“Well… I just- I just thought I should start thinking about it.”

Gepard was the only son of the Landaus. It was decided since his birth that he would be the one in charge with the progeny, the continuity of his last name. He knew since very little that it was all on him; and yet, he was 31, and he hadn't even taken the first step. Inevitably, the pressure his family loved to put on him was becoming more and more heavy. Saying it was his idea would be lying, because Gepard loved his work and his lonely everyday life. He loved his family more than enough so he didn't have to expend it, and he loved his friends more than enough so he didn't have to add other people in his life.

He was already spending a lot of time with Sampo, as friends or as captain and criminal. Adding a woman whom he should abandon each time he would go to the front… The idea wasn't appealing to him, not a second. At first, directing his feelings towards someone else was not in his intentions.

Nevertheless, he had a father. And, aeons, he was scared of his father. He didn't want to slip back into a downward spiral where the only words he would hear from him were that his son was worthless. Gepard held his head high now, and if his father wanted to be surrounded by grand-children so he could pass down that same generational trauma, he would obey.

… Wow. Actually, I'm not sure that's what I want to think. I thought I was way past doing what he wanted. I don't understand what changed.

Serval raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. I don't really believe that.”

“I just can't have children too late”, he swallowed his saliva, having a stomachache. No matter how he looked at his future, he could not visualize his life like that. Its not what I'm supposed to think, was the only thing he could conclude. It was high time for him to act like his last name implied.

“Don't say things like that. You're old enough to… Wait. I think I get it.” she sighed. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing-”

“Gepard! He will demand more and more from you, if you continue to be subjected like this.”

“Serval, I’m truly happy for the life you chose, but I will not become like you. I'm the eldest, now.”

A heavy silence followed his sentence. Serval tapped her painted fingernails on her wooden table, mean words stuck behind her teeth. As long as she didn't open her mouth, she could control herself and not act like her brother was the one in fault. Did she not do everything to help him get away from that stupid family? Why would he suddenly be in that situation?

“... Sorry.”

“It's okay, just… Put the dark blue suit on. Alright?”

Gepard agreed with a shy voice, then let his dear sister hang up without another word. He slammed his hand on his forehead, then threw himself on his mattress. What an idiot. Of course he didn't mean what he said, at least not to the point of implying it was all her fault. In the end, he just hoped his family wouldn't be torn, no matter the diverging opinions.

So, he put the dark blue suit on.

_

“Hey, captain!”

“Don't call me that, it's embarrassing. Gepard is okay.”

The blond stopped next to his date, in front of the bar she had chosen. He didn't have any idea of how to greet her; shake hands, kiss her on the cheek, kiss her hand, give her an embrace…? Gepard didn't know anything about women's language. Nor about anybody's language, actually.

Everything was endlessly simpler with Sampo, in the end. They could go to a bar, drink alcohol and talk about anything. He could listen to him talk about his passion for the Outside, hearing for the tenth time the complete list of the constellations, even if his friend strangely liked to make fun of stars. He could bring him to a fancy restaurant, so Sampo would be forced to dress up a bit more.

Then, they could walk in the cold streets; the blond would tell once again how much he loved his sisters, to which the blue-haired would respond by telling him about his “colleague, but she's more like a little sister who hates you as much as you hates her, and you don't have the choice to have her in your life or not, because it's life, after all!"

And maybe they could even watch a movie they had been watching again and again. Was it too much to ask, really?

“Gepard?”

Ah, right. Instead of that he was stuck with a stranger, he truly was a remarkable liar. He quickly tapped his cheeks, so he could be focused on his role and that evening's goal. He stared at the glass of Mojito he ordered by default, lost in thoughts. He hated Mojito, also. Why did he do that…

“My apologies. I was thinking of something, nothing important.”

She then laughed a little. “It's okay. I guess that being the captain must be tiring!”

Gepard nodded. After a short silence, during which he drank some mouthfuls, he continued; “What about you? What kind of work do you have?”

“I'm working at the florist.”

“It must be difficult to look after flowers in that cold.”

“It is! We use special fertilizers, and they're kept in heated greenhouses…”

Gepard was truly feeling tense. No matter how much willingness he had, he couldn't seem to be interested in what she was saying. Maybe they weren't made to go further. Maybe he was too cold, or too boring. Maybe he was about to ruin everything, like he did for some of his old dates.

Like all his old dates, actually!

Maybe he just didn't like flowers. Maybe he only cared when someone explained to him the complete list of the constellations. Maybe it wasn't his fault he couldn't get along with a woman. Was he truly such a bad son, that he couldn't do the bare minimum in a conversation?

Get a grip of yourself, Gepard.

“Gepard, your life must really be something! What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Not much.”

His voice seemed strangely cold, so he cleared his throat to show it wasn't intentional. He had so much to tell, and yet he couldn't even say a word. He liked taking care of his plants, watching movies and ranking them in a notebook, going outside and eating a hot brioche while observing the animated city, taking care of his face, looking at the stars, his work- and a ton of other things. But nothing could come out of his dry lips. He only kept swallowing his saliva.

“Well… I like plants, it allows me to stay at home sometimes. I'm someone who's almost always outside! I've seen you a lot during patrols.”

Gepard only nodded.

What a disaster.

“Do you like going out with friends too, Gepard?”

“I don't have friends, but also, I have colleagues. Some of them are friends. But they are from work. We go out sometimes.”

The woman smiled a little, and the flush spread all over Gepard's face as he realized that sentence didn't mean anything. He then quickly understood the issue he was facing; since the beginning, he was only saying random words he had learned by heart while going on dates, and now… Well, he didn't know how to behave! His role of perfect son, husband, brother, captain- it didn't come with knowing how to “love ” someone.

The problem was obvious. It wasn't about being interested or not- it was about being interesting. Gepard didn't have anything to share.

…

And it was very hard for him to accept that he didn't have any love to give.

It was, once again, obvious. He didn't even know why he was hiding it from himself since the beginning; the Landau's only son didn't have the time, nor the desire, nor the possibility to give himself to someone. He didn't have any love to share even if he tried, even if he really wanted to, even if thinking about his father's disappointed face was sending him goosebumps. He should be making that effort. He had to make that effort.

However, when he looked at the pretty face of his interlocutor, when he listened to her telling what she liked with passion, he just couldn't. It seemed too cruel to continue pretending he was interested in any of what she had been saying to him.

Gepard wiped his sweaty hand on his pants, then gulped. “I am sorry, erm…”

His date in front of him smiled a little, then lowered her eyes to stare at the tablecloth. They didn't even have the time to eat, and yet they were already at the end. “You don't have to find an excuse. If I'm not to your liking, it's okay.”

“That's not what I wanted to say”, Gepard raised his gaze, panicked at the idea of hurting her. “I’m not very skilled at expressing feelings. I can't share my life with someone… Currently.”

“It doesn't have to be about feelings. If you want, we can pass the time doing something else.”

“... What? You want to be friends?”, she shook her head to say no. Gepard suddenly felt an electric shock in his whole body when she put her hand on his, making her fingers go up on his wrist. He felt her painted nails sneaking beneath his sleeve, touching his cold skin.

That mouvement immediately made the captain tense. He absolutely hated being touched like that, and it was for that exact reason he was covering himself from head to toes everyday. Very few people had the privilege to touch or even see his skin.

“What could two adults do without feelings, in your opinion?”

Gepard bit the inside of his cheeks, his face red from embarrassment. Uncomfortable from that situation, he answered shyly; “I have to focus on having children, and I can't do that with anyone. Sorry.” and while saying that, he slowly put his arm back against his body, so nobody could reach it again.

After a really short silence, the sat woman laughed weakly, then swallowed in one go the alcohol in her glass. “You're kinda… Corny. And outdated. Just like everyone says.” She then stood up, and took her coat before putting some money on the table next to her empty glass. “Thank you for this evening.”

And Gepard was alone.

I'm outdated?

Just like everyone says?

Did he just learn that the Belobog he had been protecting day and night considered him as an corny guy?

He couldn't retain a sigh, and ordered more alcohol. That date had been one of the most catastrophic things he had ever experienced in a very long time- and of course it was his fault, there was no need to think more. He was too embarrassing, boring, and outdated . He wasn't even equal to be a Landau, why did he even say all of that to his sister? His father would be ashamed of him, truly. As long as his feelings for his best friend weren't "love", he didn't have any excuse for his incompetence.

At this point, he was only dwelling on the same things. The exact same reproaches kept coming back to his head, the same words, and the same insults. He had always hated being compared to his father- but to torture his own being, he truly was his son.

And finally, before being aware of it, the alcohol went to his head. He felt miserable, being sat all alone at a table set for two, drinking until his world would spin.

Was Sampo waiting for him?

Why was he even there?

I didn't even ask for her name…

Was Sampo waiting for him…?

Should a Landau think about his best friend, or about making a family?

Sampo surely was waiting for him.

The captain cleared his throat, swallowing the contents of his last glass, then stood up. He put weight on the back of his chair, then put on his coat before leaving some change and going out of that oppressive hell.

When the cold hit his face, making his cheeks and the point of his nose red, he raised his head. The view of the starry sky made him let out a sigh of relief, relaxing the billions of thoughts going through his mind since the last hour. Finally calming down, he started going home, since he wanted to be nice and warm in a place he knew. Deep down, he only wanted to be reassured, because he just felt like crying beneath his quilt until falling asleep.

He did his best to put his key inside the keyhole, and then opened the door by putting his whole weight on it.

“Gepard?”

He gave no response, and took out his shoes without untying the laces. He put his coat on the hall's chair, so he could delay his meeting with Sampo. The latter got out of the couch, and lost his smile when he smelled alcohol on his friend. He opened his arms a little, catching a tipsy and tired Gepard- and also, ridiculously depressed.

“Sampo, I'm such a loser.”

Now that the only person with whom he felt comfortable was in the same room as himself, he could count on him to shut down all those negative thoughts. The blue-haired couldn't hold a laugh back, and quickly decided to ignore the rush of happiness he felt with the idea of his date being ruined. He would be such a pathetic friend if the other could know that.

Afterwards, he slowly brought him to the couch, and sat next to him, allowing the youngest to put his head on his shoulder. He took out both of their gloves, and gently caressed his hand with his naked fingers. Sampo had learned that his friend liked touching his hand when he felt a little down, and he didn't need to ask why. Their fingers were used to be interlaced, the youngest's only hand needed that proximity he had with no one else. Nobody was normally allowed to take out his gloves and do whatever they wanted to his hands; but Sampo would gladly share them for Gepard.

“Your skin is soft,” the blond said, lowering his gaze.

“Yours is, too.”

“Sampo, am I corny and outdated?”

The conman abruptly suffocated with his own saliva. “What-?! Err… Well, I mean- That's not-”

“So I am, right?”

Seeing Gepard being suddenly depressed again broke his tiny fabricated heart. “No! You're charming… In your lack of charm. People may think you're outdated, but you're still you. They just need to be interested a little to see that.”

Sampo seemed to be looking for words, then swallowed the weight of his guilt before continuing; “If we stop to your role of captain, I would be the first to say you're boring! But you , as Gepard, have so much to show. You think I would be with you almost everyday if you were that boring? I have principles! If people are interested in you only because you're the Captain Landau, that's their loss. That makes more for the ol’ Sampo Koski~”

The criminal wore a crooked smile, and it was truly difficult to maintain it when Gepard stared at him with wet eyes. His whole heart fell in the back of his body, a strong and heavy weight pushing against his ribcage. Sampo really didn't want to laugh nor to find a meaning in that situation. Each of his best friend's expressions could make him laugh; his anger, his embarrassment, his frustration and even his annoyed face. However, seeing him sad was not funny, at all.

“You’re the only one who likes me.”

Sampo gently bit his lower lip, his teeth tightening afterwards. He answered by a weak chuckle, because it was the only answer he had learned. No, Sampo. Don't try to find a meaning in that. It doesn't have any.

“You’re the only one who doesn't treat me as a role. As... anything I didn’t even choose. Sampo, why are you the only one to like me? Why you?”

Why me?

Sampo knew the answer. Why did he like Gepard? Why did he voluntarily choose him, and not someone else? Why did he get attached to him, why did he progressively put aside his mask, why did he stained his performance with such a relation? Why was he going towards that inexorable ending? His dry lips separated, his heart was beating louder.

It seemed the world slowed down, the laughs stopped to hear his answer. Everything was silent, too silent so Sampo couldn't see thousands of looks on his being.

At that moment, I could only see Gepard.

…

“Because you're the only one who likes me, too.” he answered.

And Sampo fought against his will to join all those invasive laughs. They were all making fun of him- making a whole, an impenetrable mass of noise, giggles, teasing, and pointing fingers towards the only deviant fool. His cheeks were going up to the rhythm of their voices, tempted to join them in those hysterical laughter, but it took his whole being and the very little of humanity that was left in Sampo Koski to keep his face neutral. His mind was begging him to find that funny, but he just could not.

He wished nobody could see them. He wished no fool could treat them like a show, he wished so hard he began to feel alone. He loved Aha more than anything— he hated the fools more than anything.

The mass became quiet some time after, when they understood it wasn't a joke, nor a comic situation. Instead, the looks looked away, the fingers pointed at other things. The boredom had grown in them sooner than expected- nothing was amusing in what had happened between the two.

Having those types of feelings wasn't supposed to be part of the show. I'm supposed to be a comic relief provider, not some sort of romance character.

“... What a pity.”

Gepard hid his face in his best friend's neck after talking, and put his arms around him. He sniffed, trying to hold back tears even if the alcohol in his blood was encouraging him to, and closed his eyes against his warm skin. The criminal gulped, and put his arms around him too. He didn't know how to understand what he said, nor how to react.

“I don't want them to say I'm worthless. I don't want them to hate me. I'm feeling like a fraud,” Gepard sighed, for a long, long time. “I'm sorry, I'm not usually saying those kinds of things. I guess it's because I'm a little tipsy.”

“I understand what you mean, about the fraud part.”

“Sampo, you're my only friend. I don't want to lose you.”

Sampo chose to answer with silence. He went quiet forever, because he didn't want to respond to his friend's lamentations and consoling him more than physically. Having him in his arms while he couldn't even laugh was already dangerous enough; he couldn't allow himself to invite him into his heart. Deep down, he felt lost. What could he answer? Of course he wasn't going to lose him.

Nevertheless, Sampo Koski was not reassured by that proximity.

His skin turned cold, freezing, burned by Gepard’s hands and arms around him.

His head was spinning, hurting.

His aching throat was trying to answer.

His stomach was turning upside down, full of stress.

Sampo had never felt so in danger by his dear Captain's side. He had never accepted that something could take out his laugh, and his will to make fun– but he was entirely submitted to his own feelings, prisoner of the fact that he was the only one who liked Gepard.

For a fool who didn't want to find meanings in a relationship, he felt cornered.

Chapter Text

Gepard had woken up alone that morning. The vision of the empty cold couch in his living-room had immediately allowed his sore body to be crossed by relief.

He, obviously, wouldn't have been able to face his friend after that evening. A wave of shame and regrets went through his mind, resurfacing on his tired face as redness on his cheeks, neck, ears. He had shown an unworthy side of his being; his role was to support burdens and not to be one himself.

Gepard had always been burying his sorrows and doubts deep down in his chest, well hidden behind multiple layers of skin and muscles. However, Sampo had a gift for revealing his most secret weaknesses—which the Landau didn't know if he liked, or not.

He nonetheless thought his guest would have put breakfast, a glass of water, or an aspirin on the table; anything that would prove his voluntary departure. That kind of easy favor was Sampo’s way to mean “thank-you for being my host”. Gepard checked his phone, and met with some messages from Serval and Bronya.

Nothing from the conman. He definitely would have sent him something, like every morning, and Gepard felt stupid. He bit his lower lip, cursing quietly as he realized the gelid silence from the other made him anxious.

He might have asked too much. He might have gone too far. Perhaps, he had acted in a way that made Sampo uncomfortable.

An oppressive feeling of worry began to crawl on his back, but he shook his head to scare those unfounded fears off. It was definitely not the time to think about those kinds of things.

He found an aspirin himself, swallowing in one go a glass of water, and made some eggs. The Captain had never skipped breakfast, but after his wailing sessions from the night before, his appetite was long gone. He played with his fork for a while, forcing the salted taste of eggs down his throat, and got rid of it with a lot of coffee.

With milk. And chocolate syrup. And chocolate sprinkles.

Replete, he went to prepare himself. He, of course, didn't need hours to get dressed– but he felt hopelessly slow.

Looking at himself in the mirror was something he never did, and he was forced to see the sticky-looking dust sitting on the glass. He was definitely going to ask Sampo to clean that up (because he had offered cleaning “services” to have free meals), that was, if his friend still wanted to see him. He hated torturing his mind that way, but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

“You look awful”, was the first thought he had, when his blue eyes finally locked with his reflection. He would maybe like to love himself a little more. Was he truly that… Old-fashioned?

But before that stupid date, I didn't even care about it! What in that face makes me look outdated?

That day, Gepard Landau realized he was definitely not independent. His hands had naturally guided him towards his sister's number, and he stopped. Was he going to call her whenever he felt lost? He shook his head.

Taking a day off was tempting, but he quickly came back to his senses; Belobog’s peace and laws didn't take break. Gepard knew when he could take days off, and that day was not one of those. The guilt he would feel while staying at home would be much more intense than his body's actual soreness. He had faced *way* worse, a messed up date shouldn't weaken his determination and responsibilities.

He was only praying he wouldn't run into Sampo Koski.

While dressing up, overwhelmed by the amount of questions whirling inside his head, he finally swallowed his pride and called Serval. She had a gift for helping him understand and resolve his every interrogation, therefore, she could easily untangle every little knot of his brain. His sister was like the mother he never had to fully grow up on his own.

Although he was feeling a little ashamed of needing his big sis for a date. At thirty-one.

He put his phone on his bedside’s table, and opened his closet while sighing. His ears focused on the ringtones resonating in his room whereas his eyes stared at his bland clothes. He knew he just had to put his uniform on– but a stressing stomach ache began, because he suddenly wanted to like how he looked. Gepard was a pretty confident Landau, overflowed with pride, and he'd never doubted his look before that day. He couldn't even figure out why he felt so out of place.

Maybe because everyone thinks I'm corny.

Gepard stayed silent. His hands calmly tightened around the pyjamas he just took off, unfamiliar incomprehension forming a veil on his whole face.

Why would I even care about that…?

There had to be something else, he guessed.

“Hey, Geppie!” the blond-haired regained his smile right away. He loved talking to his sisters more than anything.

“Hi, Serval. How are you?”

“Good! How about you? Why are you calling, this time? Having trouble dressing up again?”

“Erm… No, of course not.” the brother rubbed his hand against the back of his head, then took a random clean underwear. His cheeks heated when he realized she wasn't wrong at all. “I'm okay. I'm just a little lost.”

Serval smiled, from ear to ear, a proud look on her face. When her little brother asked for help to tidy his thoughts, it gave her a role she liked. “Tell everything to your favorite big sis.”

“You know I had a date yesterday…” Gepard didn't have the time to finish, that the blond woman jumped up and down: “Yeah, tell me about it!!”

The captain put on his socks, chuckling. “It was a disaster. Serval, I think I'm cursed.” he answered. He took a short break, thinking of the first thing he should say, because there was a lot to say. He put his pants on, his mind racing between the numerous issues he had to explain. “I wasn't interested in her, I only wanted to go home. It was so stressful, I didn't even know what to say. She even said… Um. She said everyone thinks I'm outdated.”

The musician let out a small comprehensive laugh, which calmed him down a bit. “Did that hurt you?”

“I don't think so. I guess I'm just scared that people would think I'm not a good heir. Maybe.”

“Why would anyone care about that, Geppie?”, Serval didn't continue right away, because she wanted him to give an answer by himself.

Gepard knew she was right. After all, why would anyone care about that, right? He knew he was liked and admired—even if he didn't think he deserved a special treatment—only because he was the Captain; and that objectively had nothing to do with the name he was proudly wearing. He then answered: “No, you're right.” he gently hit his forehead with his palm. “I'm only scared I'm going to disappoint myself.”

He gulped. Gepard had never, not even once, talked about that kind of thing with anyone. That day, he couldn't explain why, but he felt wrong, suffocated between close walls. The thing was; he didn't know how to live by himself! And his father knew that, doubtlessly. He'd thought of that before; he didn't have any favorite colors, any favorite hobbies, and his whole personality was being the Heir.

His desires, feelings, enjoyment had always been stuck under his sternum. Until his new friendship, he didn't even know how to let them out.

Sampo had been the only one to show him how he could enjoy life. He was the one that had suggested to add chocolate to his coffee, to buy jewelry he liked, to improve his drawings… His friend was changing how he was taught to perceive life.

To his family, to every Belobog's inhabitant; Gepard Landau was just a man who loved his work.

And that was it.

Maybe that's all he was. Work was his only education.

Serval let out a saddened whine. “Aw, Geppie… Don't be so hard on yourself. You have so many qualities that everyone likes. You've done so much for a lot of people. I think you just didn't choose the right person, you know what I mean?”

Gepard slowly exhaled, while his mind became fuzzy. “The meeting app was supposed to show me the “right person”, I think. I can't find someone on my own. I'm doing my best.”

Serval stayed silent for a moment, and wondered why she hadn't shaken him violently yet. “Gep, you don't understand.”

“... I'm sorry.”

The blond-haired man didn't know what to say, honestly. He heard Serval letting out an upset sigh, as he put his turtleneck on. He thought his date would be funny to talk about, turning that terrible situation into a stupid inside joke between them– but the conversation turned into a serious dialogue that wasn't intentional at first.

“So, what are you gonna do now?”, the blond woman tried to keep a sweet voice.

Gepard answered with his own sigh. He didn't know which one of them was going to be out of breath the soonest. “I have no idea, that's why I'm calling. You always know what to say.”

“Depends on what you want to hear. Want me to encourage you into dates that won't work, or to tell you it's worthless?”, she chuckled a little, amused by her own joke.

“Serval, I'm serious. I don't know, explain to me how I can seduce a woman?”

Serval smiled instantly, hitting her hand on her forehead. “I don't think that's what you should be concerned about.” she answered, with a strict voice, because her lack of patience was starting to rise in her demeanor. She didn't get what he didn't get.

“You think I'm not capable of loving someone?” Gepard threw a glance at his reflection in the mirror, checking if his hair was clean enough. He, on his side, thought he couldn't give love to anybody in his current state– but he just needed her sister to say loud and clear that he was wrong.

“I think you're not capable of loving a woman.”

A silence followed immediately; Gepard's jaw opened and locked itself, to answer the shock of that sentence. His reflection and outfit became the last things he cared for, hence the abrupt emptiness in his thoughts. Noises beyond understanding escaped his lips, but he had no idea what to say. That was the very last thing he was expecting.

The musician waited patiently for his reaction, nervous, because she knew she hadn't been cautious in her choice of words. She bit her nails waiting, and hesitated to tell him to forget what she said. Her brother closed his mouth, finally, and exhaled by his nose defenseless.

Gepard took a moment to think, torn between the feeling of being offended and the urgency to deny everything; if his own sister didn't trust him, then who could? He pinched his nose bridge for a second. A part of himself felt betrayed and hurt, but he tried to get a grip. “You're wrong.”

“… How can I put this? You already give to a lot of people. I think you'll have trouble adding someone in your life.”

Gepard couldn't agree more with his sister. It was the exact whole brainstorm he had done the day before, after all, because he knew he already had enough people around him to not add anyone.

Although the second after, his body became unpleasant, uncomfortable; a sort of strange anger engulfed him quickly. He felt entirely stuck in that bizarre situation, and suddenly didn't understand anything anymore. He knew deep inside their opinions weren't entirely the same. He knew why they weren't and he knew why he didn't want to hear it.

He wet his lips, then continued: “Who?”

Serval bit the inside of her cheeks, facing the difficulties her brother's denial was representing.

“You're giving everything to others. You don't even think of yourself before thinking of Belobog. Am I wrong?”

Gepard squint, because, well, he couldn't at all understand where she was coming from. “Are you saying my work prevents me from having a love life?”

She nodded in front of her phone, relieved. “Yeah, exactly!”

Gepard sighed *again*, defeated. He put his phone next to him– but he didn't even have the time to stand up, as he heard Serval's discreet voice continuing: “And Sampo.”

He stopped. A mixing of a smile and a curled up nose found its way on his face, which quickly turned into a grimace. He could have guessed she was about to say something like that. “What do you mean?”

“Errrm…”, the blonde gave her brother some time so he could understand by himself, but it was way too much to hope for. When she understood he would definitely sulk the truth until someone put the latter in front of his eyes, she gave up. “You're also giving a lot to Sampo.”

“A lot of what?” Gepard could already hear his own voice sounding more defensive.

“A lot of love!”, Serval let out a desperate cry, “Ugh, Geppie! I'm sure you know that, you're not that stupid!”

“So I have to stop seeing my best friend to have time for a woman?” the heir answered, giving a sour laugh.

“No? It doesn't have anything to do with time! Why is it the only solution that comes to your mind? Would you give up on your friendship to have kids you don't even want?”

“Well…”

“Don't even think about it!”

Serval groaned, upset, shaking her hands in the air. The brother heard the noise from her bracelets, then resumed, because he didn't want her to doubt any longer. “Serval, I know. But that shouldn't prevent me from having a wife.”

He said that to reassure her, but it had the opposite effect. “And it didn't cross your mind to go out with Sampo?”

Gepard hit his forehead. “No. Are you kidding me?”

“You think it's stupid? You really like him.” She slightly hit her phone with her shoulder so it could go up against her cheek. “And you two are really close.”

“He fills the hole in my life that a wife will fill later. That's all.”

Was it that hard to understand? The captain knew he felt alone and he needed someone in his life. Of course, the fact that Sampo Koski was the person having this role was practically a curse– but they were getting along well, especially because they mutually gave each other what they needed.

On second thoughts though, it made no sense; he'd never wanted to replace him. And yet, there was that weight crushing him, representing his duties and responsibilities. He never thought having a wife beside Sampo was an issue. Would they stop seeing each other in front of the starry sky? Or would he find a woman able to bring the same to his life?

Serval snorted at the phrasing “fill a hole” and resumed, feeling like he was close to giving up: “So you're using him to throw him out later?”

“No.” Gepard rolled his eyes. An uncomfortable feeling took place in his thoughts, and it made him stop his movement. He rubbed his eyebrow out of embarrassment when he realized it was exactly what he was about to do.

Then, he cleared his throat. His best friend didn't have a place that important– he was not his future wife's replacement. That unreasonable and illegitimate choice didn't have its place in his Landau life, hence the fact that he didn't give the conman such a role beside him. He shouldn't feel guilty about finding a “replacement” to Sampo, since the latter was not a choice in the first place.

Sampo was *besides* his wife, a person he could see when he felt alone. Sampo wasn't his wife.

Determined, but troubled, he continued: “He uses me too, then. He needs me like I need him, there is nothing more to understand…”

The sister guffawed. “Do I have to remind you of that day? You know, when you called me, panicked—”

“Serval, no! Absolutely not!”

The younger brother hit his face with both his hands, with utmost embarrassment–which was a stupid idea, since the cold metal of his right little finger hit his nose with full strength, and it hurt.

Sometimes, he sincerely regretted being too honest with his dear sister. She enjoyed way too much reminding him of every embarrassing moment he went through. He should know, after all those years, that she wasn't the right person to confide his most secret thoughts. Nonetheless, she was the only person he could say that kind of things to.

The captain shushed his memory trying to bring back embarrassing feelings. “Stop. It wouldn't work between us.”

“It sounds like everything is working well, am I wrong?”

Gepard lowered his gaze and sighed, helpless. The more they were talking, the less he liked the turning of that dialogue. It looked like an ambush into which he didn't have the choice to jump. His sister was more hurting him than helping him, currently. “Serval. Are you seriously saying I could go out with a man?”

“Oh, so that is the issue? Are your feelings only limited to friendship because he's a man? If Sampo was a woman, you wouldn't act the same?”

The man found himself hesitating, then answered strangely: “Of course?” Wasn't it normal? The way she was phrasing it made him feel like it wasn't. “We're maybe close, but nothing should be more than friendship. No matter my feelings.”

Serval opened her eyes wide. “Did you just say you have feelings?” her heart began to race, as she had for a second the hope he understood.

“No.” Gepard got up, and went to his kitchen. The situation slipped from his grasp, leading to topics he wasn't controlling and wasn't even understanding. He didn't want to understand, by the way, what his relationship with Sampo meant. He involuntarily entered in an automatic pilot state; his mind deviated from its course, towards other occupations in order to flee whatever the truth was. Besides suffering, what would it bring him to know his feelings would never see the light?

Mechanically, he answered: “I do not ask myself if I have feelings or not. The answer must be no. I won't bring shame upon our family.”

Serval didn't answer immediately, suddenly offended, and surprised everything turned that way. If she had known their call would end up that way, she maybe wouldn't have started talking about Sampo. She loved her brother more than anything, but he obviously didn't know how to handle his weakness. He, also, didn't know how to handle anything except his own job– which was concerning, to say the least.

“... Are you even hearing yourself?”, she then asked.

Gepard breathed out, suddenly hurt by his own words. His sister had never hidden her preferences for women, hence her previous relationship with the former Supreme Guardian. She had found comfort around Natasha throughout the years, but the loss of her old one and only was still haunting her thoughts. They had separated each other roughly and had been on bad terms until she had passed away.

She obviously was acting like everything was alright, and the captain knew she wasn't open to new experiences because of old painful memories stuck in her mind.

Gepard never wanted to mean that was an issue. He would never be embarrassed to want a man, if his whole line wasn't depending on him.

“You're not like me.” He tried his best to separate Serval from that story; his problems weren't about her at all.

“Of course, because I am the family's disappointment, right?”, the musician fell onto her chair. Thinking about her old years was depressing, she didn't think they would go that far in their conversation. She rubbed her hand on her face, focused to suppress every negative thought.

“No, Serval, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I'm the one who has to make children. That's my role.”

She then lifted her body, exhaling loudly the air in her lungs. “Gepard. You can't say you have feelings for Sampo only because you never met a woman. It doesn't work like that. Who would think that way?”

“I do not like men. Stop implying it.” he answered, feeling his grip tightening. A headache slightly began to hit his temples, as he gently held his forehead to remain calm. If he acted like he was upset about it, he would be hard to believe.

“The fact that you're not interested in women and that you prefer sharing your life with a man means nothing?” she lifted an eyebrow.

Actually, I think what's upsetting me is that she's right.

I would unquestionably prefer sharing my life with an idiot like Sampo rather than with children I don't want.

Everything would be so much easier if he was a woman. Why does it have to be that complicated? I didn't even care about his gender before that dumb heir thing.

“... Sampo is my only friend. Serval, you're not helping.” Gepard pinched his nose bridge. “Don't you trust me? It looks like you're not understanding on purpose.”

The Landau's oldest gritted her teeth. She could say the same about him! She would do anything for him to understand a simple fragment of what she kept saying. “Geppie, I trust you. I just can't support a choice that isn't even yours–”

“Then get it into your head: it is my choice.”

Gepard wasn't understanding their interaction, and didn't get how it was that complicated. Every feeling towards a man he could have was ignored, and forbidden. There wasn't anything going on with Sampo for that exact reason. It didn't matter if she was right, because as time passed, he had forced himself to not care about his own desires.

The latter were piled, stored up in the back of his head—until, of course, he couldn't add more. That was what he'd been taught to do.

“Okay, I understand…” the musician answered. “We'll talk about it later.”

“You'll have the same answer.” the blond-haired man rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I have to go, or I'll be late.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Same.”

The captain hung up, slowly breathing in and out. He felt relieved, at least, that they didn't end up having an argument for something so ridiculous. Keeping his family beside him was, obviously, his first priority. He did his best to avoid the questions going through his mind, especially about that so-called proximity he had with his best friend; and he left, finally, for work. He was definitely not going to think about that call for longer.

What he wanted, deep inside, was that nobody understood he one day drifted apart from his role. Nobody should learn the existence of his feelings. Nobody should understand his piled up desires were once overflowing.

The fact that his sister had guessed was terrifying to him, to say the least. Who was the next person to guess? Lynx? Bronya?

His father?

He hoped no one would ever remind him of his long forgotten feelings.

—

“Do you have something going on with Sampo Koski, Captain?”

… What?

The blue-haired woman lifted her glasses, waiting for an answer. She was carrying between her arms a pile of important papers she wanted to deliver him that morning.

When she had entered, she had found him way too unfocused to fully comprehend what she had to tell him– so, of course, she changed to a topic that could draw his attention.

Gepard looked lost, shocked even, and a drop of cold sweat rolled down his temple. He tried his best to look unbothered, but his heart was racing like crazy. His office suddenly felt cold, like a jail in which he was kept.

“... No?” was what he answered, unsure.

“Aw, crap.” Pela immediately took her phone. “Lynx keeps telling me about him. I bet you two were together.”

Gepard's face dropped six feet underground. He didn't know if he was upset? Feeling ridiculous? Maybe both?

“Why would she– ugh, whatever.” Gepard had stopped trying to understand how his sister was finding her info. She seemed more interested in his love life rather than telling him she was back in town. He had to bear with Serval and her long reproaches about Sampo, there was no way Lynx would start something like that too.

He knew why. He knew she was “worried” her “dear big brother” was “all alone and single” (her own words). He had stopped counting all the times he had to tell his little sister that no, he wasn't sad to be alone– but she had a much bigger determination than his, on that topic. She wanted to know everything, and by everything, it meant everything.

However, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hadn't seen her in such a long time, and he missed her a lot. Hearing about Lynx while he kept thinking about his—supposedly—incapability of being what his family needed was something he would have loved to never experience.

Since Bronya had become the Supreme Guardian, Gepard had stopped seeing her outside of work. He rarely saw his co-workers, he rarely saw Lynx, and he didn't want to bother Serval everyday. Perhaps it wasn't helping him with that crushing loneliness; he only had Sampo, of course he would give him all the love he had!

He was just trying to find excuses.

“Between you and me Captain, you can tell me. I won't tell Lynx about it.” she gently hit him with her elbow.

“Pela. I would appreciate it, if you don't become like her on that topic. Don't give her wrong ideas.”

“Yeah, that's what you say, but you let him escape last time.”

Gepard felt a rush of blush on his face, as he gritted his teeth. “Wha- How do you even know that?”

“Because everybody knows it,” Pela shrugged, sighing. “Everybody's only talking about this, by the way! You really should take an interest in rumors.”

Gepard was staggered.

His guards thought he was in a secret relationship with his enemy. And the women from Belobog thought he was outdated.

What did I even do to deserve such a reputation??

He cleared his throat. He had to ignore it, to act like everything was under control; he *had* a secret friendship with him– so what? The guards wouldn't think he was betraying them, right?

He went close to Pela’s ear, suddenly feeling nervous. “What are the guards talking about…?”

“That you two are surely more than simple enemies. Apparently, it's so obvious that a blind person could see it.” She shrugged again, showing she didn't know more. Pela was only bringing up what she had heard. “Also, one of them has seen you with him out for dinner.”

The blond took some time to digest the fact they all knew since the beginning. If he refused to be seen with Sampo in public, it was to avoid that exact situation. Being so close to him wasn't bothering him, as long as nobody knew it. He wasn't ashamed of him, and he hoped his friend didn't think he was; he was certainly more ashamed of himself, because he had a role and image to maintain. 

He thought he was discreet, but it turned out he wasn't. At all.

“Are they… Worried?” he asked, unsure of how he should take that information.

“Nobody's doubting you, if that's what you think. They're more reacting to the situation like it's a TV show, if you want my complete and honest opinion.” Pela lifted her glasses up with her index.

“That's the opposite of reassuring.”

Gepard sighed, then let himself fall back in his chair. On second thoughts, he would have loved to never know what people were saying about him.

Maybe loneliness was better! Maybe not meeting women and not going out with his best friend was better, if that meant not being dumbfounded when learning how Belobog was seeing its Captain.

Pela took some time before talking again. “They are worried, for you, though. They think you need vacations and that you're trying to forget… You know. A lot of things that happened.”

Gepard sighed. “I'm not. I don't need a vacation. I'm not trying to forget anything.”

“If you say so. Though if you don't take a vacation soon, I might end up forcing you to.”

As Pela left, he kept his head low, focused on his desk. He then lifted his gaze to look at the multiple portraits displayed on the wall to his right, and sadly, closed his eyes.

The men he had lost were hard to ignore. He could not, absolutely not, forget any of their faces; but he had never shown any weakness, tough. He thought he was doing a pretty good job at hiding how guilty he felt, but to learn the guards thought he was going out with Sampo to keep his mind busy…

Well, they were right, after all.

He *maybe* found himself being closer to the criminal since the end of Belobog's crisis. Until that day, he had never put two and two together, but the truth was way too obvious for him to ignore it any longer.

He needed a break.

Or did he?

I'm just inflicting this on myself, am I not?

His father had always been saying the same adage; “if you feel out of your depth, you are not managing your life like you should”. So, what was the issue? What was he doing wrong? A Captain should not retreat, and should not appear weakened. A Captain should not let personal loneliness encroach on his will to help his city. 

What the fuck are you even doing to yourself, Gepard?

Getting those forms of attention was confusing to him. Cocolia had never asked if he was tired, she had never asked how he felt about losing people. He didn't deserve their worry; he was alive. He wasn't more special than them, he didn't need to be treated like he should rest. As long as he was doing his job, he could prevent further losses.

Or could he? Could he, truly, protect everyone? How many of them died for him to be praised?

Could he enjoy life with his best friends while families were mourning their husbands, sons, brothers?

Suddenly, his phone rang, and it helped him to focus once again on his surroundings. It was coming from his personal phone, unfortunately! His close ones were supposed to know he was working, and they shouldn't call him. He took it with a firm hand, ready to turn it off, but relaxed his strict grimace when he saw the call was from Sampo. The criminal had just fled his home that morning—or maybe during the night—so he surely had something important to say. Usually, he played dead during mornings.

He hesitated for a moment, and took the call. Perhaps, talking with that guy would make him stop torturing his own being.

“Y… Yes?” he hit his forehead when he heard his own stupid voice. Aren't you supposed to NOT act like your feelings are obvious??

“Hey~ Geppie!” the overjoyed way in which his friend was talking made him focused once again.

“Why are you calling me when I'm at work?”

“Well, ya see…” Gepard could hear him walk very fast, creating doubts in his mind. “I was calling to know if you'd like to come at my place tonight?”

“... Erm… To your place?”

Gepard gulped. His sealed desires were calm, but because of the night before, his sister's allegations and his co-workers ideas… He prayed Qlipoth to make his thoughts quiet.

“Yeah! I stol- Bought chocolates while taking a quick, totally not suspicious walk. We have to eat ‘em together.”

“I thought you didn't really like chocolate.”

“I just thought of ya.”, and he sounded very proud.

Gepard sighed, red and ashamed. “You really like him, and you two are very close.” was the sentence which came to his mind at first. Why did Serval have to say that sort of thing? Every word pronounced by his friend was going to drive him crazy– even if he thought he never had a soft spot for it. He never noticed they were that close, even if he knew what Sampo represented to him. He had done everything to draw a line in the sand between them, but that line was maybe too thin.

He had no idea if he should thicken it or accept it like it was.

“Earth to Gepard?”

“Sorry.” the blond haired rubbed his eyes. “Of course, I'll come to your place after work.”

“You don't have to, ya know. You maybe have somethin' else to do. Another date, ‘n all.”

“Why are you like this?” Gepard hit his phalanxes against the wood of his desk. His metallic fingers gripped his phone harder, upset.

“Because that's how you love me. Anyway, I'm a businessman, I've things to do.”

Hearing the word “love” from his mouth felt embarrassing; because it made him remember how they basically told the other about their love.

“I hope the “businessman” will have time to tidy his room before I'll sleep in it.” the captain clicked his tongue against his palate.

Sampo grimaced to that displeasing sentence, but quickly recovered from it. “I will have time to tidy my room, and to make myself pretty for you. Bye-bye !”

Gepard heard the noise of his phone ringing out before he could answer. He then hung up, embarrassed as he imagined himself at his friend’s home that night. In his opinion, it was way too soon to see him again after their interaction from the night before, but he had trouble saying no to him. At first, he used to prefer seeing him occasionally, but as time passed he found his alone days longer. He was a “best” friend of course, but Gepard had noticed he was more and more scared of loneliness.

Being with Sampo was reassuring, yet the people around him were beginning to make him feel like their relationship was strange. He was torn between everything and everyone's opinion.

He knew nobody cared. He knew they all didn't care if they ended up together, but he didn't want to. He couldn't. He shouldn't. He didn't deserve love for himself.

And yet, he wanted to see him, to feel him, to hear him say he loved him once again.

…

For Qlipoth’s sake! Nobody should know I feel that way. Not even Sampo.

Focus. On. Doing better.

Chapter Text

His day was over.

Actually, his day had already been over for almost half an hour.

Gepard was standing at his best friend's front door, waiting patiently—at least, as patiently as he could. He'd already rung multiple times, tried calling him, shouted his name- and yet, nobody came, which had forced him to stay motionless in front of Sampo's sinister place. He could mimic his stupidities, enter by the window without even asking, and the thought had crossed his mind twice already. He couldn't even count the numerous times he had woken up from a nap with the other pulling faces in front of him, whining like a lost puppy because it was "so cold outside".

Nonetheless- he was well-mannered, and wasn't built like that criminal. He was the Captain Landau, after all.

And that's exactly why he had to convince himself that he would be doing this for Sampo’s safety; and nothing else. He cleared his throat, shifting uneasily as his hands rubbed together in nervous circles. He could already hear the teasing in his head. The Captain Landau, looking like a total loser. He rolled his eyes, annoyed with his own thoughts; no one would care about that.

“If he ends up laughing at me, that would mean he's alright, I guess,” he murmured to himself.

He finally faced the building, looking determined, but definitely not entirely convinced.

He did the best he could, gathering some random objects he had found lying around. Using ice would be stupid, obviously. He, of course, checked that no one was looking, then climbed to the opened window of his friend. He threw himself inside and promptly fell to the ground, but quickly lifted himself up, embarrassed. At least, no one saw that.

He didn't find the time to stand up correctly, as he immediately felt something sharp under his chin, rooting him to the spot. He forbade himself to gulp, before his gaze met Sampo's, who then stepped back as soon as he recognized him. His own face blushed involuntarily, a short sign of relief. Seeing Sampo had never brought him so much reassurance; his heart missed a few beats before starting to race even faster.

“Cap- Gepard…!”, he hid his weapon behind his back, a crooked smile on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

Gepard slowly breathed out, hands put on his chest, trying to calm down his heart. He was more than ready to jump on the guy, mind going blank as he had thought his friend was in danger. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I thought ya were someone else. Ughh… Embarrassing.” the blue-haired man threw his weapon on the side, holding his ribs after. The blond one almost immediately noticed the wound he had on the side of his body, and he stood up to come closer. Their weird encounter became ancient story as soon as his attention was captured by it.

“What’s happening to you? Why didn't you answer the door?”

“‘Cause I didn't want you to see me like this.” he rolled his eyes. “Today's client was mad at the price.” he grimaced, and his way of frowning showed he was trying to hide his pain. “Happens sometimes.”

“Nonsense. Tell me the truth, instead of what you would say to the Captain.” Gepard took a quick look at his ribs, shamelessly taking the other's hand away from the wound he was trying to hide. It seemed to be correctly treated—for someone as reckless as him—so he sighed in relief.

Sampo put his free hand on his shoulder, a friendly way to remind him he shouldn't get too involved. “I'm not dying, Gepard.”

“Am I supposed to wait for you to die to be worried? Freaking idiot.” he pushed away his arm, mad at how he was trying to handle the situation; he had always found especially unfair how he would not care about his own well-being while repeating day after day that Gepard should focus on himself. Didn't he know how much he cared for him?

“Hehe… I guess. Geppie, you can swear when you're with me.”

“Fucking idiot.”

The criminal's cheeks tainted themselves in pink, and he rubbed his neck. Sampo certainly had an issue with authority, but it wouldn't need much for him to admit he appreciated when Gepard was shutting him up. The latter crossed his arms, visibly waiting to know the truth, and Sampo answered by shrugging. “What is there more to say? I've made a lot of enemies, you're not special. That's all.”

“Don’t you dare compare me with them. I will never hurt you.” Gepard sighed, but quickly resumed: “At least, not that much.” He held a strict face—surely to hide his embarrassment—and forced the criminal to sit down. “You are a menace.”

Sampo stuck his pierced tongue out, happy to be treated like the princess he was.

A heavy silence followed, where sighs from the Landau could be heard when he realized the other didn't even have a first-aid kit at his home. He broke the comfortable silence by grumbling; “How are you surviving? Don't you have enough money to buy the minimum?”

“Well, I have a lot of people to pay… Ouch! Geppie—”

Gepard ignored his friend's complaints, focused on covering the wound in a soft and efficacious way. It wasn't that serious, just a graze from a sharp object, and he thanked Qlipoth for it; with how unconscious Sampo was, the Captain wouldn't be surprised if he were to find him almost dead hiding in a random barren alley.

“Y’know, that's really nothin’ compared to the usual.” said the criminal, thinking it could reassure his friend, but it obviously had the opposite effect.

Gepard frowned, a dreadful feeling hindering his calm attitude. He put his hand on his brand new bandage, and slowly caressed his waist and ribs. He let his fingers explore his different wounds on his bare skin, his thoughts racing between multiple emotions, hence the shiver he felt on Sampo under his touch. The criminal was cold, his skin was rough, and scarred; he smelled the antiseptic, ointment, and other products he certainly put on himself randomly. Was he always putting so little care in himself? He couldn't stop himself from thinking of the thousands of wounds he had, the cause of his numerous scars, and felt anger consuming his peaceful mind. Sampo’s skin rolled under his fingers, and Gepard ended up pinching the squishy side of his hip.

“Hey!” Sampo jumped on his butt, surprised. His ears tainted themselves in a pinkish tone.

“Stop making enemies. You're hard to protect.” Gepard had a look on his face that Sampo couldn't describe- he had never seen anyone look at him that way.

“Erm, I'm sorry, who asked you to protect me?”

The blue haired said that with a smirk, to mess with the invading Landau. The latter stared at him with a scowling look, then pressed his body under his hands. His skin and his metallic fingers were both cold, but the pressure he was putting into his hips was unsettling.

“If you die, I'll kill you.”

The oldest became silent.

Nothing could better represent what Gepard feels for him. If he died, he would kill him; a hatred so strong he started loving him, a love so deep he started hating every one of his stupidities. The more he learned about what kind of life Sampo Koski was living, the more a mishmash of contradictory feelings was attacking his poor sanity.

He had never learned how to express his emotions, as he was taught to repress them for as long as he could. He didn't even know what he felt most of the time– but he knew perfectly well of what he wanted with that idiot. He knew exactly the anger, the joy, and everything else he had brought him; however, he had no idea what to do with those overflowing feelings.

And something like that, for Sampo, was common sense.

Classic, basic, properly formed sentences had never made sense to a fool like him; “Take care of yourself”,“I'm worried about you”, “I’m sorry this happened to you.” Any attention that sounded like emptiness in his ears meant nothing, and had never helped him understand that anyone cared. Why wouldn’t he take care of himself? Why would anyone be worried about him? Why be sorry if something happened to him? Sampo didn’t understand these foreign human feelings, and he didn’t like them being forced on him.

It was common sense, for him, to get angry at Gepard if he died. It was common sense, once again, to be in such a contradiction, to express himself in a language that no one understood because only he could understand himself.

In fact, feeling the blond break through those specific walls he had built around himself with such brute force, that the elation itself had always prevented him from seeing– it created a strange feeling that he had only known so far with his best friend.

He was speaking the words and the love that a fool was forced to understand. Sampo could no longer pretend he didn't understand the human feelings that were presented in such an obvious way to him.

“If you die, I'll kill you.”

The deeper the love, the stronger the hate.

Sampo lowered his unfocused gaze, and his cheeks quickly became red. “... Words have meaning.”

Gepard blinked as an answer; he never thought he would someday see that expression on his friend's face, especially while saying something other than his usual jokes. Speechless, and probably realizing how stupid he'd sounded, the blond-haired man blushed as if he'd just said the most embarrassing thing he could have said to Sampo Koski.

He definitely wasn't speaking his stupid language, but he still could understand human reactions. Why was he acting like he'd just confessed his entire love to him? A bizarre feeling of anxiety went through his whole body as he wondered if he had gone too far. The words he had just blurted out echoed in his mind like he had accidentally confessed something he'd been keeping secret for ages. All he wanted was to dig a hole and crawl into it.

Gepard, you fucking idiot! Weren't you supposed to make sure Sampo couldn't tell you were definitely in love with him?

The following silence weighed down on their shoulders for a moment, and Sampo forced a laugh to break it. In the Captain's ears, it seemed more like a choked guffaw. “You have no idea of what you just said, right?”

“No.”, Gepard admitted, looking away.

The other slowly breathed out by the nose. “Nonsense suits you."

The blond rolled his eyes; and here he was yet again, making fun of him and spitting things only himself could understand, and Gepard had always thought it was his way to make him give up on the subject. When he realized his hands were still on his skin, he lifted them, burned by the unfamiliar feeling of strange ambiguity. The criminal caught his wrists right away as the other finally looked at his jade eyes, shining with maliciousness.

“You knew I could only understand how much you care about me like that, didn't you?” His voice sounded like an unfamiliar mix of teasing and amazement.

Gepard closed his eyes, ashamed. Quite the opposite, actually; the blond only said such nonsense because he knew it wasn't too straightforward. “Shut up, I'm begging you.”

However, he surely had forgotten how that idiot worked. Sampo Koski would be less impressed by a “I love you” than a “I’ll kill you”.

The conman didn't answer right away, but he ended up leaving his wrists alone. He had clearly seen the uncomfortableness of that situation, and pushing the other away wasn't something he wanted.

It was pretty unsurprising, after all. Sampo was uncomfortable when Gepard was trying to express his feelings in his own way ; and Gepard was uncomfortable when Sampo was trying to express his feelings in his own way. They may be friends, and they may share stronger feelings; but they still couldn't speak the same language.

They both didn't know real life outside of Belobog. Gepard didn't know what is was like to not be tied to anyone, nor what it was like to have his own life; and Sampo didn't know what it was like to love and care for people, nor what it was to want someone besides him.

He felt upset, but got a grip. “I'm just playing with ya.” and the youngest felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

Sampo thanked Aha a million times when the ringtone of his phone helped him get out of that strange situation. He checked the number, then smiled, resigned, as he gently tapped the other's shoulder with a sorry look.

“I have to answer. You can wait in my room if you want.”

Gepard had always been infinitely obsessed by the serious voice Sampo used whenever they both were in an ambiguous situation.

But he shook his head. He wasn't supposed to find a meaning in the foreign sentences of that fool. He watched him take his phone and isolate himself in his kitchen—that meant, only some meters away—and went to his room.

The guest was soon walking around in the small place. He had already been there, multiple times, but he never had the opportunity to be alone and explore Sampo’s private world. He should feel guilty about searching, but that criminal definitely deserved it for all the times Gepard had found him searching in his room to find money. He shouldn't have left him alone for a stupid phone call, anyway.

Gepard was walking patiently, scrutinizing everything he never had the time to look at. He appreciated every fourniture, caressing the old wood of some of them, and opened drawers in which he found numerous objects he didn't even want to imagine the use of. However, that wasn't interesting to him; he wanted to find something way more personal.

The issue was quick to emerge and understand. Sampo didn't have anything personal in that “home”, like it wasn't even his. On second thought, Gepard didn't know what he was expecting from a criminal who had never left any trace.

The blond haired man stood in front of his wardrobe, amused, as he wondered if he had other clothes than his ugly attire. He’d already seen him in a suit, as handsome as he could be with one, but never with anything else than his conman disguise. Then, with a silly smile plastered on his face, he opened the creaking door of the wardrobe and quickly was disconcerted.

Dresses. Bags. Heels. Make-up. A lot of feminine stuff, that made him take some steps back. He stared speechless at the pretty red fabrics, black or blue pieces of clothes, resting next to some accessories; bags, hats, necklaces, and even earrings. He squinted, took a close look at the make-up, looking at the lipsticks, blush, mascara, and other things he had already seen his sisters using— and that he, maybe, probably, had already used too during their sibling “girls nights”. His hands caressed the silk evening dresses, and a stomachache stopped his thought process.

What does that mean?

Who lives here?

The feeling of realizing he knew nothing about his best friend was something he never thought he would ever go through.

Who was Sampo Koski?

He couldn't even remember if his ears were pierced. But again– had he, really, taken interest in those things? Had he stared at Sampo, had he looked at every detail that would enhance his figure?

Did he even forget that Sampo was living with someone?

A familiar voice sent shivers down his spine. “Geppie! I hope you ain't bored without me!”

The blue-haired conman entered his bedroom, and Gepard had the stupidest reflex to slam the wardrobe’s door, only making a huge thud in the empty room. Sampo stopped, as his friend turned around slowly, trying to look more natural than ever, but his face couldn’t quite hide his embarrassment. His lips twisted in a clumsy effort, as if the expression had to resemble a smile, but he just couldn’t pull it off. It was more of a grimace than anything, and the shocked gaze of the other didn’t make it any easier to relax.

His voice turned hoarse. “Did you… End your call?”

The criminal stayed silent for some very short seconds, mouth opened– then bursted out laughing, unable to stop, pointing at him. Gepard came closer as red as a human being could be, and he took the other's wrists to make him stop.

“Stop laughing, Sampo! I get it!” his voice was shaking, it was almost impossible to understand what he was uttering. The captain would do anything for this shameful moment to stop, however, the other didn't want to let such an opportunity slide.

The captain Landau, looking like a total loser.

It was a sight only his best friend could savor.

Sampo dried his wet eyes with a slight movement of his fingers. “I never thought you were interested in my underwear. Gepard…”

The youngest’s eyes widened. “Who do you think I am?!” He drops his best friend's hands, ashamed of that weird ambiguity. The latter just snorted, and a giddy feeling made his ears turn pink. He had that stupid smile plastered on his face, the kind of smile anyone would be shy to receive.

“I don't care if you searched. I have no secret.” Sampo linked their hands again, tenderly.

“Yeah, right!” Gepard shooed him away. “You never said to me that a woman was living here, right? You surely have more secrets than what you want me to think, and that's insufferable.”

The Landau let his whole breath out by his mouth, exhausted by the sudden peak of anxiety whirling in his already sick thoughts. He knew he’d just said what crossed his mind in an offended tone, which he was now starting to regret. He couldn't even understand why he felt that way– he was simply upset because his best friend was a total stranger, in the end. He was supposed to be his “best” friend for a reason, and he hated feeling so far from knowing everything about him.

Or was it something else?

Gepard despised, deep inside, the idea of Sampo sharing his life with someone else.

I only have you- you should only have me.

I don't want you to have another "best" friend.

The other man lifted his eyebrows, and he seemed offended for a moment. He shook his head, sighing. “Geppie, why would I bother sharing my life with a woman when I already have someone like you?”

The blond wasn't stupid. He immediately recognized his own words, which made him gulped, ashamed. He wasn't ready to hear again whatever he'd said to Sampo when he was embracing his feelings. It seemed way too far away, like a long forgotten fever dream. The oldest knew what those words meant for both of them.

“Everything here is mine.”

“I don't believe you,” he answered, and Sampo finally laughed. Gepard stubbornly kept his gaze focused on his own hands.

“Do what you want.”

Sampo hadn't felt that way in a long time.

A feeling of unease crept into his chest. He cursed Aha, the situation, and this misplaced jealousy Gepard had. He cursed his masculine face, his overly defined jawline, his thick eyebrows, and the hairs he hadn’t shaved above his lips. He cursed his flat chest, his broad shoulders, his thick hands, and his bitten nails. He cursed his muscular hips and his lack of shape, and everything that made him a man.

Natasha’s words came back to him. “Look doesn't define a person,” and he knew she was right. He knew he had no reason to feel illegitimate, no reason to have to prove to anyone what he was and wanted to be; but Gepard’s gaze on him was messing up his thoughts far too much.

Should he put a dress on, for Gepard to want him?

Should he put red on his lips, for Gepard to kiss him?

Sometimes, he wished he was a woman.

Sampo let out a long, anxious, sigh. He couldn't even remember the last time he had found uneasiness in his own gender expression; but he shook his head, trying to dispel the annoying thought. He knew the issue wasn't how he looked, but more how Gepard was perceiving their relationship.

Looking each other in the eyes wasn't going to change anything anyway- and the blond seemed like he didn't want to continue on that topic. Sampo held his hands, caressed his calloused palms, and tried to focus on gaining his trust, again.

And again.

And again.

“Do you wanna spend the night here?”

The blond frowned, red. “Mh. Yeah.”

They had already slept under the same roof many times; however, Gepard had never felt more stressed out. His thoughts were going back and forth between his sister's words and how strangely he was perceived by his guards– and that tiny incident, which was finding silk dresses in Sampo's wardrobe, was more confusing than anything.

Besides, Sampo's ears were pierced.

Because of those issues, he started asking himself questions he had never thought of before. If everyone, anyone was uttering the same nonsense about them both, and if every feeling, any feeling Gepard could have for Sampo were deepening as he was realizing more and more the nature of their exchanges— then he could definitely see and understand things he couldn't before.

“Okay. I'm gonna make dinner, go take a shower. Take whatever ya need, like always.”

The blue-haired man left the gelid room with a tender smile; but Gepard wasn't oblivious enough to not notice it was a forced one. They had known each other for a long time, and he was able to decipher anything unusual on his face.

Sampo wasn't wealthy enough to rent an apartment with two rooms, but at least, he had a couch he could sleep on and leave his own soft bed to his friend. The blond gulped thinking about it; sleeping in his friend's bed had never been more stressful than this night.

Sampo's smell. Sampo's laundry. Sampo's dresses, and bags, and heels...

He slapped his entire face with his hands. What a loser.

His ears are pierced.

Therefore, he searched for an excuse. He wasn't exactly willing to leave, but he couldn't brush off the need to be as far away as possible. Something with the idea of being that close to Sampo didn't fit with his alerting senses– feelings he surely would have ignored if Serval hadn't said they were too close, if his colleagues hadn't said they were definitely more than friends, and if his father hadn't said how he would make sure he “wouldn't be able to breath again” if he was seen with a man.

Perhaps, those weren't very useful for him to feel safe around Sampo.

Was that truly what happened? Usually, he wouldn't even care about how he was perceived– but he was unable to pinpoint the exact source of his unease. Throughout the past days, small things had piled up, yet nothing concrete seemed to justify the anxiety that consumed him. Everything seemed to add more invisible weight, but no specific event stood out as its clear cause.

After multiplying back and forth in a lot of clusters of thoughts to untangle, Gepard concluded that it wasn't about a specific conversation; but more how he perceived himself. What if no one was wrong? If Belobog was seeing its Captain that way, a lot of other people could think the same.

Like his father. Or his mother.

Or, even himself.

What he considered as just upsetting information were bringing abruptly more and more stressful questions, as he soon let the warm water run on his back. The reason, and the meaning of everything was something he couldn't grasp; he couldn't even find where everything was leading him to. He couldn't even guess how he was supposed to perceive himself.

Something was missing.

The cause of all his fears was missing. A vague painful memory tried to resurface, but nothing was making sense. It was like a cork board stuffed with every issue he was aware of, not being able to link them, ending up with red strings and push pins leading to the void. He knew he had forgotten an important tie, surely the cause of everything that forbade him from being comfortable with Sampo and his own feelings.

After months, Gepard was still unable to understand why he was scared of that relationship.

Is it really just because I have to be the heir?

…

Why would I even care about being the heir?

Gepard exhaled loudly by the nose, both his hands on the wall in front of him, head towards the ground. He knew something was missing– he knew he didn't even care about being the heir in the first place. He couldn't grasp the cause of his uneasiness with himself.

He had always felt that the love others were giving him must be earned, like a reward he must conquer. Every gesture of tenderness, every word of support, felt like a gift he dared not receive unless he was worthy of it. Although his heart reached out to Sampo, Gepard couldn't surrender to that affection. He must maintain that armor of captain, of heir, of son, leaving no room for imperfection. The very thought of feeling things for Sampo felt like a betrayal of his duty.

But why?

Under the hot water, gaze focused on the shower's floor, he was caught in invisible rules in which he couldn't even know where his role ended and where his freedom began. He felt lost, imprisoned by a pain he couldn't understand nor overcome.

He recalled the years of gelid silence, the subtle reproaches from his father each time he failed to act properly or make the right choices. He thought of the days when he searched desperately for reasons for that missing piece, yet all he could find were accusations.

He knew he began to seek to fill this emptiness with flawlessness. Rather than confront or express the depth of his absent feelings, he strove to become, at least, the son he imagined his father desired. This yearning for perfection, though shaped differently, morphed into a silent quest for the love or approval he believed had slipped beyond his reach. Each lost soldier, each buried companion, each forgotten family member, each kiss he thought of giving-- anything breaking through that flawlessness was reminding him how empty he was, after all.

I keep reliving the day I wanted to forget whenever I push the boundaries a little too much.

He shook his head. He knew what he was taught to do when meeting with a dead end. Perfection wasn't an option, it was a constant demand, a relentless pressure; if he didn't succeed, nothing would be left of him.

Find a way to fill that missing piece.

All he could think about were Sampo's stupid dresses.

Chapter Text

The water had become lukewarm, gradually dissipating the invasive mist on the walls of the small shower he was standing in.

Gepard would feel way too guilty if he emptied his host's hot water tank, although he would have loved to stay isolated a little longer. He could feel that his trapeziuses and deltoids were still quite numb, and nothing was better than a hot shower to relax his tense joints.

He had been taking cold showers after another for the past few days. No matter what kind of work awaited him the next day, a short stay at Sampo's home was exactly what he needed to have some quiet time.

That annoying mass of fuzziness above his head was not going to stop him from living. Gepard knew anxiety, fear, traumatic responses; he had seen worse, had lived worse, and knew how to run through his painful memories. Repressed feelings were not going to stop him from moving forward, the problem wasn't exactly there anyway. It was more like a deep and troublesome emptiness, an intense terror that he had always tried to ignore every time he could no longer understand his purpose.

Who was he, truly? A question he hated to ask himself, that would always invade his weak mind when he couldn't comprehend himself anymore. He had always dodged that void, the shell of a man he was, and tried to follow any orders blindfolded. They all knew what was good for him, what he was capable of, and what he was truly worth. He should have, at least, tried to trust his own wants and needs if he wanted more freedom– he just didn't know how to do that yet.

Sampo had filled tiny bit by tiny bit things he lacked. His favorite drink, his favorite plant, his favorite pen to write and draw with. His favorite color, green, his favorite suit in which his friend would dress up. His favorite dress, the red silk one; he knew it would be his favorite as soon as he saw it by itself, resting like it was waiting to be worn and caressed.

Sampo was the worst.

He finally decided to go back to him, in the living room.

Sampo was the worst.

He knew his previous shirt was full of blood. He knew he had monopolized the shower for a long time, and he knew his friend was surprisingly never cold– except when being cold was useful. However, strutting around shirtless like a housewife waiting for her husband to return from work? He wasn't sure of the absolute necessity of his ridiculous stage play. He did take a shower, he did heal his wound, and he did put a bandage on; why couldn't he dress up like a normal human being?

Sampo wasn't stripped of all his clothes either. He was wearing his gloves, those well-known gloves that he had only taken off for Gepard, which he also wore at his own home. The blond man wasn't even wearing his, still covered from head to toe, and trusting him enough to let himself be more vulnerable. He had always let Sampo see the real Gepard Landau he secretly was, unless it was him who was turning him into a whole new person; a Gepard he liked, a Gepard he was happy to be.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away as if time itself had suspended its course. Everything around him had faded away, leaving only this mesmerizing sight. He thought, however, that he was invisible, that his eyes were moving with quiet discretion; but this illusion of subtlety—almost laughable—didn’t escape anyone, and certainly not Sampo. He was so lost in thoughts that he couldn't proceed correctly with what he was staring at.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, his gaze drifted over Sampo’s body, wandering across his figure with respectful attention. He began with his lower belly, gently rounded from the pastries he’d devoured with an almost childlike appetite. Gepard lingered on the softness of it, drawn in by the peaceful tranquility it showed, a detail both familiar and infinitely intimate. His thoughts wandered for a moment in this silent contemplation, which he hoped was discreet, almost fleeting—but deep down, he knew it was anything but.

His eyes climbed higher, brushing over the subtle line of Sampo’s abs, lightly covered by a thick layer of skin that seemed to embrace them with tenderness. Sampo's beauty was not about the perfection of the form that drew him, but rather the sense of balance and serenity that emanated from every line. These muscles, sculpted for effort, were only to exist in quiet rest. Gepard was lost, his control slipping away under the illusion of discretion he couldn’t maintain.

Finally, his gaze lingered on the tranquil mass of Sampo’s pectorals—imposing, yet unexpectedly soft. They rested there, almost motionless, but with a silent beauty. Every breath seemed to reveal the hidden strength within, a serene power that captivated Gepard. He tried to look away, to feign indifference, but it was too late—every detail of this chest seemed to envelop him in an irresistible fascination. His eyes lost themselves in the perfect curves of this torso, which, much more than just an assembly of muscles, seemed to embody an impenetrable calm. Sampo was hiding everything deep under, sharing that illusion of neatness while being surely broken and messy inside. Gepard wished he could suspend this moment and carve this image of absolute peace into his memory, like a work of art that one gazes at endlessly, all while knowing that the evidence of his admiration could never be erased.

Sampo Koski was large, with muscles that weren't very defined, with a thick skin which gave the impression he was malleable. He knew deep inside what he shamelessly loved doing: taking his body between his hands, squishing it like a stress ball. He had exchanged a lot of hugs with Sampo, and something he had fun doing was taking his belly between his hands to mess with him. He hoped he was the only lucky person who'd been able to feel his well-hidden muscles beneath his soft beige skin.

That day, everything was different from usual. He couldn't look at those simple friendly acts without getting inopportune feelings on the way. Each time he forgot about the reason he had to abide by rules he didn't care about, his feelings grew stronger, stranger. He knew he shouldn't, but the more he forgot, the more he seemed able to receive and accept these platonic forms of love binding them.

Remember my place?

He couldn't even remember what was supposed to be his place. Wasn't he old enough to do what he wanted?

What do I even want to do?

He couldn't remember anything about what he was taught.

A rush of blush covered his face when his eyes met the other's. He could hear the “gotcha” Sampo was thinking at loud, pointing his stupid grin at him.

“Like what you see?” Sampo lifted his chin slightly, as if to strike a proud pose.

Gepard grimaced, shaking his head. “You're ugly.” he spat, like it was such an obvious statement.

The blue-haired man couldn't answer with anything but a laugh, since he knew the blond one wasn't meaning it. Gepard loved saying ambiguous things to him without even thinking of what it would actually cause. He had never shown any mercy for his best friend's poor tiny heart, and was mad at him when the latter was twisting his words. “You truly have a body made for hugs”, was something he had said multiple times, without feeling any shame. Sampo couldn't even grab him like a madman while desperately trying to tell how he couldn't just say that…! Because yes, he could.

“What happened to the promise of only telling the real truth?” He gave his friend some time to defend himself, but the latter lowered his gaze slightly as if he had nothing to say. “If you really want to look at me, be discreet. Or be direct; if you want a hug, just ask for it.”

“I do not need a hug.” the Captain groaned, embarrassed. He definitely hated how his friend would make him notice how cheesy he was.

“Come on.” Sampo made a sign to the other to come forward, opening his arms. He knew Gepard couldn't refuse a hug from him– but he, more than anything else, wanted to comfort him so he wouldn't feel bad for the last time they saw each other. His friend coming home drunk was not a rare sight, but he had never seen him that lonely and stressed out. On second thoughts, he had never seen him going out for a date either– and Sampo was surprisingly weak to the fact that he chose to cry in his arms while speechifying how he was his favorite person, of all people.

Gepard sighed, defeated, then came in his arms. He understood how much he needed that embrace on the spot, as he shoved his face in his shoulder. His arms went up against his scapulae as he took a deep breath, trying to relax his thoughts a little. The strange warmth emanating from Sampo was much more pleasant than he would like to admit. He felt protected in a cocoon that he had only rarely known and only rarely accepted. Being too close to such a source of warmth could easily melt his indestructible shield, and exposing his hidden and frozen weaknesses was something he had not learned to do.

“You don't have to put your prosthesis back on, when you're here.”

The blond exhaled. “I just felt like it.”

Sampo felt the arms of his friends tightening around him, and he couldn't help but let out a sort of mixture between a laugh and a sigh of understanding. He gently smacked his back. “You can be so needy sometimes.”

Gepard hated how much he liked that. Words coming from Sampo sounded reassuring, charming, and he was ashamed of the feelings he would never say out loud. A shiver ran down his spine when the latter lightly caressed the metal of his arm, placing a kiss on his shoulder as if to encourage him to remove it. Gepard did not answer.

The criminal had underestimated how much place his friend would take. He thought he would still be able to cook while having him in his arms, and he was wrong; he was admittedly taller, but his back was also wider. Needless to say, having a fridge-sized human in his arms would never help him move easily.

He smacked his back, and tried to put some distance. “Come on, I have to finish dinner.”

“Let it burn, I don’t care. I want to stay like this.” Sampo sighed in defeat, and lowered the burner a little, before removing his arms from around his friend. He patted his shoulders friendly.

“Can’t do that! Come on, I'll give ya plenty of hugs later.”

Gepard slowly pulled away, heading toward the empty couch without looking behind. A strange feeling of adrenaline took place in his throat, torn between the excitement of going against orders and the fear of being caught by anyone. The other could only watch his broad back moving further away from him, and bitterly regretted not being able to know the expression his face wore at that moment. He could only hear “Alright.” coming from his lips.

Gepard would never admit he needed contact, though in Sampo's eyes, his actions were worth a thousand words.

The Landau needed a lot of affection. He was such a touch-starved man he couldn't care less about the meaning behind their exchanges, but he was acting a little different from usual that evening. He seemed more aware of how much he was dancing with the limits of their friendship. Sampo may have involuntarily or voluntarily done everything he could to make Gepard lower his cold defenses. He knew how to be seductive, attracting, and even affectionate; however, everything seemed more serious and risky with his friend. A lot of foolish things were so tempting to do, to try, and he couldn't even explain why he hadn't attempted anything only his faction could have fun with.

Being with Gepard was… Calm. He could easily silence voices, ignore laughs and make peace with his overwhelmed mind.

Even though cooking took an unexpected amount of time—only Aha knew why Gepard was staring at him like he was the dinner—they went to eat in the living-room when everything was ready. Sampo didn't own a TV, didn't own much anyway; they ended up playing board games during which Gepard kept losing. The conman had, of course, cheated a ton– and when his best friend was complaining and whining, he couldn't prevent himself from laughing.

“Are you eating the pieces??” The captain sighed, his head held by his hand with a look of despair that Sampo rarely saw, especially on the face of the Landau known for killing fragmentum monsters with his bare hands. Each of his new expressions was like an addition to his personal collection.

He answered with a wink. “You got me there.”

“That's stupid! You'll have to rebuy them!”

Sampo shrugged, rocking back in his chair, crossing his legs. “I just have to wait for them to go all the way down.”

The criminal had never seen such an expression on his friend's face. Eyes wide, nose turned up in disgust and mouth wide open, shocked at what he had heard. His eyebrows had turned up in an exaggerated manner and the darker-haired shook his hands immediately, adding: “I'm joking, for Aha’s sake!”

“You're a disgusting man.”

Sampo imitated a fake annoyed look, resting his face in his hand. “You’re acting like I smell bad!”

“You smell bad.” Gepard answered with what seemed like a taunting smile.

“What?!” the conman lifted his head almost immediately, offended. “That's the worst insult you could use against me! You don't like the perfume I bought just for you? Do you want me to change?”

“You bought a perfume just for me?”

Sampo answered by a weird laugh, followed by incomprehensible words. He finally cleared his throat and tried to explain how the joke went above his head.

The awkward silence made them both give up on arguing more.

In the end, Gepard ended up forfeiting.

When they put the game away, the blond finding hidden pieces randomly while throwing furious glances at the other, they threw themselves on the host's sofa. Gepard spoke first. “I’m not sleepy yet. I'm going to read a little.”

“Okie! I'm gonna answer texts.” Sampo gulped and shakingly pointed at his friend’s lap. “Wow! Your legs sure look comfy…!" he mentally choked himself when he heard how unnatural he had just sounded.

"... I suppose it's your way to ask to lie down.” the captain shook his head and patted his thigh to encourage him to come lie down.

Sampo let out a small, happy laugh, lying on his back with his head on the other's lap. They exchanged a short glance, and Gepard quickly turned it away to fix it on his book. Having the face of the one who had been invading his thoughts since he was here on his lap was not helping him to focus, at all. His rough hair cascaded down his thighs, and he had to clench his fists for a moment to stop himself from stroking it. His captivating gaze dug into him as if he could guess all his most secret vices, and his oddly plumped pink lips seemed way too pleasant to kiss.

Sampo Koski was handsome. He couldn't explain why such a face attracted him, nor why every little detail of his being fascinated him so much.

Gepard had never taken the time to look at his beautiful being before. He had never accepted that he thought he was mesmerizing, pleasant to look at. He was indisputably trying to make up for what he considered lost time, as he never correctly appreciated the man he was. He blamed himself for noticing the holes he had pierced in his ears only then, and how his eyes were exactly the shade of green he preferred.

He liked the moles he had here and there, the scars that surely revealed old piercings, the closed wounds on his jaw screaming that he didn't know how to shave without cutting his face clumsily. He found the white hair he was starting to have quite charming, as the fine wrinkles he had on his cheeks demonstrated his bad habit of laughing in all situations. His long eyelashes were lined with a kind of makeup that he had never noticed either. With a simple glance, he had managed to remember all the details that made Sampo a person he found attractive.

Gepard lifted his book to look at him again, using as an excuse that he needed to "check" what he thought he had remembered. He noticed his eyes were slowly narrowing until they closed delicately, mouth slightly open before he let his hand holding his phone fall gently against his chest. Gepard fought not to say anything, but he quickly regained his composure and forbade himself from any more stupid thoughts.

He put his hand not far from his hair. “Are you falling asleep?”

Sampo shook his head from left to right, waking himself up. “No, no,” he lied, trying his best not to fall into Morpheus’ arms as such a rare contact was happening between the two.

“It's okay, you can go to sleep.” The blue-haired guy raised his head, staring at his lighter pupils. His friend gently put his naked fingers in his hair, finally, stroking it and untangling every knot between the strands he hadn't washed for two or three days.

Sampo would give a lot of things for this moment to last forever, and the signs the Landau was showing couldn't mislead him. His reactions were a true delight to see; he could bet his life that he was currently debating with himself if he should kiss him or not.

“Good night then.” Gepard gave his friends a gentle kiss on the temple, a kiss way longer and more intense than normally, and Sampo bit the inside of his cheeks. He could hear Seele’s strident voice shouting at him to kiss him back, and he hesitated for a second. Whatever might happen, it would either result in more attention or more laugh material anyway.

Embarrassed, he lifted himself on his elbows so his upper body could be closer to the blond’s face. He brought his lips to his cheek, kissing his pale skin in return. He then found his way to his ear, kissing the latter, too– and quickly moved back, staring at Gepard's face with undeniable blush on his.

The latter, surprised, felt warmth inside his chest. Gepard had always kissed his sisters goodnight, and had never received anything in return. He didn't like people touching him, showing him affection; but that specific affection was making his heart ache a little. It was full of love he couldn't even accept.

While staying silent, Sampo placed his hands on his jawbones, the tip of his fingers then gently touched his earlobes and the beginning of his hair– and he kissed the corner of his lips. Their both hearts exploded, and at that moment, Gepard cursed his sister for making him realize they were surely more than simple friends. In his muddled thoughts, as long as his friend made the first move, he had no reason not to respond. As long as neither of them crossed that line of friendship, he had no reason to refuse the pleasure of being appreciated for who he was. He wished he was able to receive kisses like that without everyone around him reminding him of what it meant. Couldn't he kiss Sampo on the cheek without it being weird? Couldn't he enjoy his touches without it being interpreted by others? Despite being told every day that he should relax and think about his life first, others were thinking of his life instead of himself. Everyone who encouraged him to live was preventing him from living.

The Landau’s heir had never felt so much for the criminal. He had forgotten about the feeling of his own heart beating louder, while the other's lips brushed against his skin, his hands on him, his jade eyes staring deep inside his iced ones. Sampo finally lifted himself entirely, ending on his lap, and the captain took his hips between his fingers.

In that modest living-room, they were alone. No family member, no Belobog inhabitant, no coworker– nobody would know if Gepard Landau gave in for a quick second. Nobody would be judging his choice, his life, nor what he should do with his friend, his feelings.

He brought his lips towards Sampo, ending on his shoulder, making the conman red and shy. Since he had been watching the latter the whole evening, he felt the urgency of touching him; and the other chuckled.

“Too shy to kiss me on the lips, Captain?”

Sampo put his hands on the other’s hips, and he felt a sudden blush covering his entire face. “Stop laughing at me.” he answered. The oldest tenderly brushed his jawline, then smiled at him. A short, weak sigh escaped Gepard's mouth.

“Let’s go to sleep, alright?”

His friend nodded. “Want me to take the couch?”

“I don't want you to sleep uncomfortably. You're hurt, I'm taking the couch.”

“It’ll be okay.” Sampo stroked his friend's cheek, who found himself leaning onto his touch. He watched him nervously look around, and took advantage of the burst of courage he had at that moment to hug his wide body against his. He continued; “Stop worrying.”

“I need to make sure everything's okay, still. I don't mind if we… Um. You know.”

“Tell me what's on your mind.” The blush on Gepard's face made him caress his cheek.

“Ugh…” he rolled his eyes. “I’ve been feeling like shit all day, I need you next to me. Please.”

Sampo's poor heart couldn't bear much more. His gloved fingers reached for his prosthesis, but the latter pushed him away slightly to imply that he was going to take care of it alone.

Gepard had made peace with the fact that he had lost that arm. Deep inside, he felt it was his duty and his punishment to have to live without it, alone. It kept him sane, like this specific curse counterbalanced the medals of honor he thought he didn't deserve. Having to take care of that foreign arm made him feel like he was carrying all the soldiers who had disappeared because of him, like a burden he wanted to assume on his own.

He would notice himself talking to that arm alone from time to time. It represented the only thing that allowed him to own up to what he had done– or to what he hadn't. The portraits in his office had become blurred, their names ancient story, and their souls wandered somewhere in the back of his head. His men were wrong to believe he was trying to forget their deaths and sacrifices; every moment spent without his arm made him feel like an arrogant captain who had overlooked his losses. This disagreeable feeling of emptiness was no longer due to the lack of a limb but rather to the lack of memories. He had tried way too many times to associate specific parts of that foreign mechanism with forgotten names.

All this was alleviated when he was with Sampo.

They were right. He had gotten closer to him, because only his presence allowed him to have a short period of calm and rest. However, Sampo had not made him forget “everything that happened”; he made him accept that he needed to be taken care of by someone. Gepard would never put himself forward for anything, but he accepted, with his friend, to be a priority for him.

“Let me love what you don’t like about yourself, let me treat you as if you were more important than everything else, let me show you what you have never seen, let me allow you what you forbid yourself.”

Gepard felt listened to, considered, understood. In return, he wasn't even able to put Sampo on a pedestal much higher than the others; the latter had never complained about anything, but the blond had a hard time showing his gratitude and the strong kinship he felt with him. He tended to lower his defenses and let himself be carried by his friend, because he wanted their relationship to never end. He wanted to bypass each of his distressing priorities to find the secret path allowing him to join Sampo.

Once in the criminal's bed, he realized that he had perhaps been too reckless to ask to sleep next to him. Gepard was uneasy and bad at social interactions, incapable of showing his emotions, hence those stressful thoughts of not treating Sampo like he deserved. There was this awkward moment, when neither of them spoke, while they were surely waiting for the other to make a move first. Sampo therefore initiated this contact by lightly touching his arm.

A pleasurable tingle went through Gepard's body. His skin shivered under his delicate fingers, and he had never felt so vulnerable in front of someone. He had never been intimate enough with someone to let himself be touched like that. He had always avoided hugs even from family, but with Sampo, it felt right. He couldn't see how that made them close, since he couldn't necessarily feel any difference. His actions were normal, automatic– he couldn't feel the need to stress about how he acted with his friend.

Feeling brave enough, Gepard grabbed Sampo's hands, removing his annoying gloves delicately to place them beside his pillow. He observed his nails, his tanned but sick, dull skin, and his palms for a moment before intertwining their fingers. The older one couldn't help but chuckle as he tightened his grip.

“I feel like a teenage girl having her first pajama party. I never had any.” Sampo rested his head on his arm. When the other frowned, he shrugged. “Is that surprising? Do I look like someone who has plenty of friends?”

“I don't… Know? You're always busy, you're good with people.”

“I'm alone most of the time.”, Sampo answered. “I don't like being too close to people, and you know people don't like being too close to me either.”

“... We're always together.”

Sampo rolled his eyes and added sarcastically: “I wonder why.”

“I do wonder why.”

Gepard sighed, as he kept playing with the other's fingers. He wouldn't lift his gaze, absorbed in questions he couldn't find any answers to. Sampo couldn't stop the crooked smile from erupting on his lips– he wasn't exactly used to speaking about how he felt about specific people, especially because he couldn't even word it correctly. He wished he could grasp what was happening between them, but everything was way beyond his understanding. He liked fooling around with the friend Gepard Landau was, having fun, searching for limits. He liked being tempted by stupidities, fleeing serious discussions and seeing which expression could cover the blond's face. He was constantly walking on a tight wire, trying not to fall into the foolish love that would lead to his downfall, nor into the amorous madness that would lead Gepard to his downfall.

Sampo belonged to a life he could only minimize. He could definitely spare himself a laugh or two, if he could finally be loved.

“You’re the person I trust the most. Which is kinda annoying, if I'm completely honest–” the criminal bit the inside of his cheeks for a moment. “I've never been close to someone that much before, and it's stressing me out.” He then sighed; admitting that Natasha was right about the stress their relationship was causing was beyond annoying.

He raised an eyebrow at Gepard's snort of laughter, and the latter continued: “You're acting all smug, but you're anxious about trusting me. You're like a kid discovering what loving people is.”

“Shut up.” Sampo gulped, then laughed shyly. “That’s because I’ve never… Felt like this, before.”

“Like what?”

“Like… Everything, all of that, is–” Sampo made huge and dramatic movements with his hands. “--serious. These are such incomprehensible and unknown things to me.”

“... Understanding things can be way worse.” Gepard discreetly bit his lower lip. Evidently, he knew how hard it was to understand things he wished he could not.

“I hate being in the dark. I feel like I'm not controlling my own life, y’know?”

If Gepard was in control of his own life, understanding things would not be an issue. He lacked liberty, and definitely not explanations. He resumed: “I wish I had the freedom you have.”

“Hey – Some stability never hurts anyone.” Sampo winked, “Not even me. Not from you.”

The captain smiled tenderly. “I'm glad to hear that. Your freedom doesn't hurt me either– and I should thank you for how you help me feel… I don't know. Alive, I’d say.”

“No need to thank me, Gep, I don’t think you know how amazing you are to me.”

Sampo placed his hand on Gepard's shoulder, who looked at him questioningly. When he felt his friend's muscular arms surround him, he blushed slightly. His body was warm, despite the cold air in the room, and his hands moved up to the back of his neck, pulling him against him to end in a pleasant hug. Gepard wrapped his arms around him, and his cheeks heated when he felt his legs come to wrap around his.

It was therapeutic.

I love you so much.

I love you, so so much.

Reassuring, calm, gentle. With a tenderness that he had never known, from anyone. Gepard hated contact, however at this precise moment, he was fine. He felt protected, he felt Sampo like a shell around his own. For a few minutes, he allowed himself to melt his own shield, because he felt safe enough to do so.

Tenth of fears were created in an instant. He knew my father would kill me if he could see me. His shield was certainly to protect himself from others; but it was also to protect himself from his own mind, from his ability to torture his being as well as his father did. His arms tightened around Sampo, hoping that the latter could make him forget his role for a moment. He was looking for his freedom, his protection, his courage to understand what everything meant without being afraid of it. He was looking for the right to feel weak.

His heart was pounding, and the desire to feel loved was overwhelming. He searched for platonic feelings, as being close without thinking about what it meant was what he preferred with him. He understood more than anyone the fear that Sampo had of this "seriousness", because as long as it wasn't love, their relationship would not end.

A lot of anxiety managed to escape from his body. The stress brought from his family, from others' opinions of him, from his inability to please. The stress at work, from his thankless role and from those many vanished names lingering in his mind. He closed his eyes, tired, as if all the hours of sleep he had missed were catching up with him.

Being in Sampo Koski's arms was pleasant. He could feel each of his friend's muscles under his rough fingers, the short right arm he had left tried as best as it could to surround him too. He ran over his folds, his extremely soft skin whose secrets he would so much like to know. Gepard, due to his work and surely to a lack of consideration for his own body, had rough skin, dry from the cold, scarred in all directions and smothered in heavy armor. He used soap most of the time and had never sought to do more.

Sampo, on the other hand, had incredibly smooth skin. He knew he was someone who cared a lot about appearances, about the way he presented himself to others; Sampo had often asked him if he smelled good, if his hair was properly styled on the back of his head, or if a wrinkled garment was visible or not. He did smell ointment a lot, but he had a pleasant cream scent that made his skin as moisturized as it should be. His fingers could slide skillfully, watching the hundreds of small beauty spots dotting his shoulders, and his rest muscles made everything squishy like a stress toy. He hid the bottom of his face against him, discreetly breathing in his very particular scent. His left arm went around his back, passing under his armpit and going up to his neck while caressing his white hair at the back of his head. The shiver he felt running through Sampo made him blush, as he tilted his head ever so slightly to get more contact. He knew very well his friend loved having his hair stroked.

The latter was in heaven.

There was an entire world that was separating the captain and the criminal. They were like day and night, sun and moon, fire and ice– Sampo was pushing until he could find where seriousness began in order to avoid it, and Gepard slowed things down until he could get out of his own seriousness. They avoided the same thing, one fleeing the unknown like the plague and the other desperately trying to know something else.

If Sampo had known years ago that he would one day sleep in his captain's arms, he would surely have taken less time to understand he was more interesting than just a boring and unfunny guy. He was having a hard time calming his hyperactive mind, racing between multiple desires– he had to fill the urgency of doing something surely stupid. He wanted more, needed more, needed him to be his.

He finally approached Gepard’s ear, and the latter turned red when he felt his breath against him.

“I wanna kiss you everywhere.”, saying that, he came to kiss his ear for the first time. “Can I?”

Gepard gently raised his shoulder against him, and answered while trying his best to stabilize his voice: “It depends on what “everywhere” means.”

“Trust me.”

“Why so suddenly?”

Sampo shrugged. Because he wanted to. Wasn't it a good enough reason? He wanted to see his embarrassed face that he'd been eagerly waiting to kiss all day. “To have some fun.”

The blond looked away for a moment. Some doubts settled in his mind, and even though he could easily ignore them, his default reaction was to hesitate. He didn't think he deserved all this so suddenly. “I don't know…”

“If you don't want to, it's okay, Gepard. You can always say no.”

The blond pushed his fears aside, terrified of missing out on a contact he urgently needed. “Do it.”

Sampo had always respected his limits– outside of work, of course. It was obvious he wasn't going to obey when the blond asked him to stop to handcuff him. The captain didn't necessarily feel the need to put some distance, to be careful, because he knew his limits mattered.

However, that evening, he had forgotten and misplaced his said limits, letting himself be carried by his friend like on a boat floating on gentle waves. He clung to this freedom in which Sampo could make him fly, and he tried to trust him to manage the direction of their ship. Many people had already taken advantage of him, and the fact that he belonged to others made it difficult for him to lower his defenses. Sampo made him a freer person, he hoped he was right to share a little of his life with him.

The oldest kissed his jaw, his neck, and Gepard had to gather all his strength so that no noise came out of his lips. Instinctively, he pulled his head back slightly, but Sampo came closer again to kiss his pinkish skin delicately. Luckily for the other, he quickly stopped and kissed his shoulder.

“Why are you so tense?” the blue-haired rested his forehead against his friend’s shoulder, trying to hide his pounding heart. He felt like he was on an obstacle course where every misstep could make him fall back to the lowest point; but he had never been this far. The desire not to start all over again was stronger than ever.

Gepard winced, his arm rising slightly against the other’s back. “I don’t know- Maybe because you’re kissing my face?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“... No.”

Sampo giggled, raising his head. “You're definitely a needy man.” He brought his large hands to Gepard’s hair, and lovingly stroke his neck while lowering himself close to his ear. He kissed his earlobe, nuzzling against his skin. His delicate scent of soap made his mind race, and he then pecked his Adam apple.

Sampo loved Gepard’s scent. A scent of soap, but also of wood fire, of cold weather. He loved his broad back and imposing figure, his magnificent muscles weakened by many skipped meals, while wearing a face so angelic. He loved, above all, the influence he had on his friend’s reactions; his little jumps when he kissed him, his changes of facial expression when he came across a ticklish area.

It was pleasant. The blonde would have liked this moment to last hours, days even. A misplaced instinct forced him to slightly push Sampo away, which made the latter stop. There was a brief moment of silence during which Gepard struggled and fought his own invading thoughts, before he cupped the other’s face, eagerly kissing his cheeks. He let his lips drift down his face to his left ear, drawing a laugh from the criminal.

I know what I want.

I want him, so bad.

Gepard kissed, devoured every inch of Sampo as if he wanted to do it as quickly as possible before someone caught him in the act. The other laughed, specifying that it tickled, raising his face towards the blond when he pulled back slightly with a sigh.

“I shouldn’t do this.” Gepard ran his hand over his face, shaking his head as he tried to surpass these stupid limits that had been imposed on him. The more he pushed them, the more he felt something was wrong. The more his lips met Sampo’s skin, the more he felt his breath slowing.

“It’s just kisses. Trust me.”

“Are you seriously asking me that, after all the crimes you’ve done?”

“Geppie, you’re wounding me...” The criminal sighed theatrically, and Gepard rolled his eyes. Sampo had a gift for diverting his attention when he started to get too stressed out. “So I have to trust you, but you can’t trust me?”

"It's your fault for lying all the time. How many of your tricks have you played on me tonight? I still don't believe you about the clothes."

“Oh yeah?” the criminal snorted, “Want me to mark your entire body with my lipstick so you’ll finally believe me?”

"Idiot." he rolled his eyes. “I would never want that.” At least, he would never ask himself if he wanted that or not.

As a response, Sampo took out the tube of red lipstick that was hiding in his bedside table. He gently pushed Gepard so he could end up on his back, before climbing on his lap in a shameless manner. He had fun covering his own lips, under the nervous gaze of his friend who gripped his hip without further question. Once he was done, he carefully kissed his cheek, pressing correctly his lips on his skin, a thrill traveling Gepard's body.

He didn't leave him the time to react, and followed a path of kisses around his face, until his left jawbone. He then leaned against his neck, and couldn't retain a timid laugh as he felt the blond man becoming tense beneath him. It surely was a weak point– and Sampo was rather proud of himself for finding it.

He then continued his line, drawing red on his muscular neck, feeling the hesitating hand of his friend going up against his back and gripping his oversized shirt. His mouth landed on his collar bone, then went up on his Adam's apple, his chin. He stopped right after, because he wanted more than anything to see what he had just created on Gepard. Proud, and teasing, he sat properly once again in front of Gepard whom he had never seen that red.

Something drastically changed in him as he saw the other embarrassed. His stomach rose, and an idiotic smile decorated his lips. The feeling of wanting someone for yourself wasn't that bad, after all, and Gepard would be blind if he was not finally seeing the tension that reigned between them. Anyone could see how much they wanted each other.

He paused slightly, stopping above his lips, his body completely towering over the other's.

The captain's eyes widened, and he tightened his hand around Sampo. He approached him delicately, exhaling slowly as he stared at his inflamed face.

Emptiness.

The thing is; he really, really wanted them to bond. He had been waiting for this, since the beginning of their exchanges, wondering when Sampo was going to finally be able to take this step. He had a terrifying desire to taste his red and sweet lips, in his reassuring arms, in an indestructible shield behind which he was invisible. Invisible to his family, his colleagues, all of Belobog. Visible only to Sampo, only to the one he wanted, to those eyes through which he wanted to be seen. Visible only to the person who had seen who he really was deep inside, a grown man who could complain day and night, capricious, addicted to chocolate and lacking human contact more than anyone else. A man who was, maybe, a little in love– but above all, alone.

Gepard knew his own limits. If they kissed, what would differentiate them from lovers? How could they still call themselves friends? How could Gepard still hide his feelings? The blond didn't want to let them free, and couldn't. Something was pulling him away from this relationship; Gepard would no longer have any valid reason to make everyone believe, even himself, that he didn't have any feeling for Sampo Koski. Gepard would not be able to hide from the world, nor even from his father, that this perfect void had been filled with these imperfect feelings.

He became nervous. He no longer knew if they had always been like this towards each other, or if Gepard had let his guard down that night. It could be because of the conversation with his sister, or even because Gepard had let himself be carried away by Sampo Koski's sweet words to fall into his arms. The idea of accepting that he loved his friend differently terrified him more than anything.

Was Serval right to think he could never be interested in a woman? Or was he just interested in Sampo? Were his soldiers right? In any case- he wasn't supposed to be that close to a man. He wasn't supposed to accept his love, that kind of love. As long as Gepard was acting blind, dissociated from those feelings, he could do and accept anything from Sampo.

That night, he couldn't. That night, he was in love.

The captain shook his head, turning his face away first. He closed his eyes instantly when Sampo took his chin between his fingers, turning his face back to face him.

“No one will know.” Sampo sighed, so close to him that the blond could feel the shaky way in which Sampo spoke. His eyes opened and were instantly glued to his pretty red lips.

The strangest thing about it all was this unexpected pain. A pain that didn't seem to be only related to the pressure from his father or his responsibilities, but to something deeper. It was a memory, a fleeting image, a burst of sweetness he hadn't known. It was an emptiness he couldn't fill, a lack he never really felt. The closer he got to accepting he wanted to kiss his friend, the more this emptiness swallowed him up, creating an urgency to fill it. The more he felt invaded by this feeling of love, the more a terrifying void filled his being, as if something that he did not want to see was missing.

It was something he was not ready to see. Gepard, as he had learned, could only fill this void with perfect acts; although he had tried again and again to fill it with his imperishable feelings for his friend, he was definitely not capable of it. Not tonight.

“As long as it wasn't love”- but it was love. And he couldn't accept that.

It was almost ironic. He wasn't doing what he wanted, but simply following what Sampo allowed him. Despite his words about “I'm old enough to know what to do”, he found himself once again limited by a sort of prohibition that he could only defy if Sampo pulled him much harder than that. He couldn't belong to the only person he wished he could.

“No one will know, but I will.” was the answer he chose.

Sampo hesitated for a moment, as he was sure he heard the sound of his own heart breaking. Should he finally face his friend’s many rejections and many about-faces? He exhaled through his nose, gently letting go of his neck before getting off his body, letting himself fall onto the mattress beside him. Something was preventing them to be more, and Sampo could kill to understand where this invisible wall that Gepard couldn’t cross came from. He had done his best to go at his own pace, walking on eggshells, managing to attract Gepard enough for him to respond to his loving kisses– but something was blocking them.

“… How does it feel to be the only one to know?”

“I don’t know, and… I’m not sure if I want to know.”

“Do you want to try? We can- We can act like nothing happened.” Sampo wished he could shut up. He hated feeling like he was willing to lose his own pride, and be treated like a toy his friend could get rid of whenever he wanted. All of that, just because he was lonely. “You can- Um… Act like everything's my fault, I guess. It’s okay.”

“Sampo-” Gepard slapped his face, drawing in a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault.”

It's my fault for having sullied feelings.

Gepard wasn't sure what was happening, but he gently closed his eyes.

It felt like betrayal. His lips felt like regrets, shame, abandonment. Gepard had always wondered how sweet Sampo's red lips were, but bitterness was longing all over his face, neck, shoulders.

He felt like he was about to lose everything.

What would your mother say, if she could see you like this?

I will make sure you lose everything, like you made us lose her.

“I’m sorry.” he winced.

“Stop apologizing.”

He was sorry, for having feelings, for loving him more than he should– Sampo hated feelings, hated love, hated serious relationships. At that specific moment, no one wanted him to feel that way, no one accepted those untamed emotions he wasn’t even able to keep for himself. It only took a few more seconds for both of them to understand the panic he was in, so he got out of bed, heading out to get some fresh air that Sampo decided not to share with him.

That night was probably anything but reassuring for their weird interactions from the night before. This strange exchange, to the criminal, was undeniable proof that there was indeed a limit to what he could try.

He could understand Gepard. If they were to venture into that specific territory, where would the limit be? Sampo hadn't really thought about what these brand new rules would be, these next prohibitions that he had to set in case they would get past this blocking wall.

Sampo slapped his face, staring at the ceiling. That's so unfair. So fucking unfair. He had made a million efforts to get close to someone, only to be rejected by others again. This time, it was painful and couldn't even leave his compressed chest. It wasn't even funny.

Gepard couldn't give himself to Sampo, because he didn't belong to himself; and it's not like he didn't warn him. He groaned, hiding his head in his arms when he had the unpleasant realization the situation was much more serious than he would have liked. His feelings and his mechanical heart were much bigger and more invasive, jumping under his ribcage and squeezing like it could no longer beat under these puppeteer strings. The limits of what he was supposed to feel were getting closer and closer to his desperate feelings.

He wondered why Gepard's feelings were so contagious.

This was everything but funny, yet they were all laughing. It seemed they all understood something he couldn't, which was a disturbed, uncomfortable situation to him, something he liked when he was acting but hated when he wasn't.

He was the joke.