Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The battle was swift and decisive. Frankly, the four men who’d jumped them didn’t stand a chance. By the end of it, Klein, in the guise of Gehrman Sparrow, stood over the bodies with his typical impassive glare.

“The artifact,” he said, hand extending to Danitz, who quickly fetched it off a corpse and tossed it to the crazy adventurer. “Handle the bounties,” Gehrman added tersely, turning away and heading back to their inn.

He turned the artifact over in his fingers. It was flat and round like a coin, slightly larger than a gold Leon pound. One side was mirror smooth, the other embossed with the silhouette of a woman. He intended to go above the gray fog to divine its effects.

Whatever they were, both he and Danitz had been struck by it mid combat, a jolt of ice cold that stabbed through their bodies then dissipated towards their extremities. Yet, for some reason, it hadn’t seemed to do anything beyond a moment’s mild discomfort.

That in itself was suspicious.

Once he made it back to their inn suite he went straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind himself. Immediately throwing the artifact above the gray fog, he then took four steps counter clockwise, chanting inwardly.

In the Fool’s seat of honor, he turned the coin over in his fingers once more. He summoned a gold pound from the junk pile and performed a quick divination. The coin showed it was safe enough to divine the artifact’s origins, and he promptly followed with a dream divination.

He was not prepared for what he learned.

—
 
When Danitz finished up arranging for the barkeeper to claim the bounties for them, he returned to the inn in a strange mood. Flame-kissed brows furrowed, his lips twisted into a discontented scowl. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… not really wrong, but off.

That feeling only got worse when he opened the door, “Got the arrangements made-“ what he saw inside the room stopped him in his tracks.

Gehrman Sparrow sat on the edge of the larger of the two beds. His head was bowed, arms resting on his knees, fingers laced. He was in his shirtsleeves, his jacket folded over the back of the nearest recliner. 

‘Dogshit! Why does he look like a man on death row?!’ Danitz felt a distinct, unsettling tremor. It started deep in his gut and spread outwards until even his knees were trembling.

“Lock the door,” Gehrman commanded. Not wanting to die, Danitz obeyed immediately.

Gehrman wasn’t done. He kept speaking, head bowed, words clipped. “Coin of the Demoness,” he said, “when activated, everyone in range is cursed.” 

Danitz recalled the cold chill that had ripped through him in the middle of the fight. ‘That’s what that was!?’ 

Forcing his knees to hold still, Danitz was quick to ask,  “What’s it do? How do we get uncursed?” 

Head still bowed, Klein kept his eyes on his hands. If it weren’t for his Clown control, he would be shaking as bad as Danitz. The curse was already digging in, and now that he knew it, recognized it, he could feel it twisting in, invasive. He felt nauseous. 

“I can’t remove it.” Klein’s voice was measured, even. His control pressed to the limit. Even in the face of… this… he didn’t break character. He’d needed to put some serious thought into how to approach this as Gehrman. 

After learning the truth about the artifact, he’d done divination after divination until he admitted defeat. Now he reported his findings in Gehrman’s short, clipped manner. Factual. Flat. Even if he was falling apart inside. “All who are cursed by the coin will die after four hours. Unless they have sex.” 

Inwardly, Klein was chanting, ‘I hate this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this!! …but I want to die even less.’ Resignation curled up in his gut, heavy as a stone. He’d been sitting here, mulling it over. Realizing what had to be done. He didn’t like it. But he liked the alternative even less. 

‘Dogshit.’ Danitz stared for a moment then laughed, relief clear on his face. He jabbed his thumb towards the stairs, “Brothel’s that way! C’mon, I’ll treat you.” He knew Gehrman would make him pay anyways, so he might as well get the jump. 

“Won’t work.” 

Gehrman’s flat pronouncement made Danitz freeze mid laugh. “What? Dogshit! Why not?” 

“You have to have known them longer than a week.” The curse required familiarity, but in Gehrman’s style, he left the longer winded version of the explanation unspoken. 

Danitz stared at him. They’d just landed in this far flung port two nights ago. Danitz hadn’t been here in ages, and he could count the familiar faces on one hand with fingers leftover. 

Klein, however… he’d never been here before. He stared at his hands. Even with his control, they’d started to shake almost imperceptibly. The curse wound tighter by the minute. He could already feel it seeping into the background of his mind, trying to twist his thinking. 

The silence was heavy. It was Gehrman who broke it, “…masturbation won’t work.” 

‘Dogshit.’ Danitz was trembling like Gehrman had pulled a gun on him. 

Humiliation clawed at Klein’s throat. ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to say this.’ He couldn’t even lampoon to himself. Not about this. Taking a steadying breath through his nose, he finished, “You’re the only person here I know.” 

Realization hit Danitz all at once, like a building dropped on his head. 

Gehrman was still leaning down. Still staring at his own hands. Still looking like a man on death row. 

The tension was thick enough to cut, swallowing them both. 

‘Four hours…’ Danitz thought, ‘after the fight and getting things sorted out for the bounty and getting back here we have… nearly three hours left? So if I just walk away, right now, he’ll drop dead before midnight!? I’ll be free of this crazy bastard?’ Surely he could find one of those two-or-three familiar faces and woo them in time… right? 

Complicated thoughts and emotions swam through his head all at once. 

Gehrman unclasped his hands, lowering them. He paused a moment then sat up. Movements uncharacteristically stiff and slow, he rose his head, finally meeting Danitz’s gaze, only to slide away. 

‘Wait, was that a flinch?’ Danitz’s eyes narrowed as he took Gehrman’s face in. He was red. Red! The crazy adventurer was actually blushing? 

Eyes on the far wall past Danitz’s shoulder, Klein felt his persona cracking, fraying at the edges. He was speaking again. Too long winded for Gehrman. His true self peeking nervously through the holes. “I’m not going to force you to do anything,” his voice faltered. 

Blue eyes wide, Danitz caught that fluctuation. Gehrman Sparrow’s usual demeanor was falling apart right in front of him. Struck dumb, he stood silent. The curse was digging deeper in Danitz too, his breaths turning shallow. Unwanted arousal had begun to bloom in his mind, an annoying itch sinking in. It colored the moment, shifted his senses. 

When Danitz didn’t say anything, Klein couldn’t bear the silence. “I’m not a rapist. That’s unforgivable,” he said, doubling down, “I won’t force you to do anything.” 

Klein had risen from death twice already. He didn’t want to find out if his body would rise again after a third time. Neither time was pleasant. Since both previous deaths were very much physical in nature, he couldn’t even begin to guess if a mystically induced demise would allow him to revive.  

He took a slow, measured breath, let go of his Clown control and allowed the complicated feelings to rise on his face, contorting Gehrman’s mien in ways never before seen. “I don’t want to die.” It came out like a confession.

‘I can’t say it outright. You’re smart enough to pick up what I’m putting down, right? Please get what I’m trying to say. This is the most humiliated I’ve ever been in my life. Don’t you dare make me say it out loud.’  He couldn’t look at Danitz. 

Danitz couldn’t take his eyes off him. The way Gehrman wouldn’t look straight at him. The way his hands shook. The way his face and voice did things Danitz didn’t even know Gehrman was capable of. 

Maybe it was the curse pulsing through him. Maybe it was something else. Danitz didn’t know what made him take the first step. He didn’t know what made him take the second.

Before he could even parse that he’d moved, he came to a stop right in front of Gehrman. The crazy adventurer was deathly still, his gaze falling to the side of Danitz’s chest. A calloused hand rose to cup the side of Gehrman’s face. A slow shudder visibly passed through the crazy adventurer, but he didn’t pull away. 

The touch was electric on Klein’s nerves. Blood rushed downwards, a sudden, explosive kindling of arousal. It struck him like a sucker punch, the curse shoving him towards the abyss of lust. He swayed, subconsciously nuzzling his face into the touch. 

It was Danitz’s turn to flinch. Gehrman tilted his face into his palm, nose and lips sliding against his callouses, glasses knocked askew. The pirate swallowed roughly, his trousers suddenly tighter. His free hand rose, carefully removing the man’s glasses and setting them on the nightstand. Then, emboldened by Gehrman’s relative stillness, he slid his hand down, gripping Gehrman’s chin. He guided his head into turning. Their gazes met. 

‘Dogshit. No way this is real. He’s gonna kill me for this.’ Danitz dipped down, tugging Gehrman’s chin upwards. Thinking that it may very well be his last living action, the pirate pressed their lips together. 

Gehrman was trembling. Danitz felt it the moment their lips met. Something deep inside of him unfurled, desire kindling. His hands moved to rest on the adventurer’s shoulders, holding him steady as he licked his way into Gehrman’s mouth. Lips and teeth parted for him, a soft whimpering muffled in Gehrman’s throat. 

The whimper sent a delicious feeling clear down Danitz’s spine. He swept his tongue deeper, suddenly drunk on the feeling of Gehrman’s unresisting mouth. ‘No way. No way this is real.’ 

The clock was ticking. He broke their kiss, pulling back and looking at Gehrman’s face. The adventurer’s eyes were closed, lips parted, breaths shallow. 

‘Oh. Dogshit. How is this crazy bastard so beautiful?’ He drank the sight in, committing it to memory. No way was he ever going to get another chance at this. After gazing for a moment he asked, “How do you like it?”

Gehrman was silent, his lips moving slightly, as if he were repeating the question to himself. ‘How do I like it? How should I know?!’ He swallowed, lashes fluttering open. His gaze averted again. “I don’t know.” 

‘He doesn’t know?’ Danitz frowned, “Never been with a man?” He guessed. His hand didn’t leave Gehrman’s face.

Klein’s face was red, but he was starting to cling for his control once more, trying to make his voice more even, his face more neutral. Fighting for the scraps of his dignity. He failed spectacularly, giving up and closing his eyes again. His answer was a whisper, “…with anyone.”

He might as well have jumped up and danced a jig. Danitz wouldn’t have been any more surprised. “You’re a virgin?!” 

‘It’s never been a problem before!’ He opened his eyes, saw the way Danitz was staring, close up. ‘Don’t look at me like that! There’s nothing wrong with celibacy!’ His thoughts stayed silent and he once more mastered his gaze. He glared at Danitz, as if daring him to say anything. 

Wisely, Danitz dropped it on the outside. But inside? ‘He’s giving me his virginity? No, no, it’s the curse making him do it. We wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for that artifact. Dogshit!’ 

Gehrman broke the silence, “Break the curse. I’ll let you pick how.” That was a fair and equal exchange, wasn’t it? Obviously Danitz knew what he was doing, right? If he just let him take the lead in this, the curse would get broken in no time. That’s what they call working smarter, not harder, right? 

Danitz caught his breath. All kinds of scenarios suddenly burst into his mind. He looked around their suite, pointed at the table, “What if I want to bend you over, on that?” He asked, testing the waters.

Gehrman followed his gesture, looked at the table. His face was unreadable. “Ok,” he agreed in a low voice.

Danitz licked his lips, “What if I want to push you up against the wall?”

Gehrman turned, looked at an open expanse of wall, “Ok.” 

Danitz’s voice got lower, anticipation clawing in his gut, his cock straining in his pants already just from his wild imagination, “What if I want you in the bath?”

Frowning, Gehrman looked towards the bathroom, recalled the narrow tub, “Is it big enough?”

“Dogshit. What if I want my cock in your mouth?”

Klein froze. He swallowed, struggled to keep his composure. Color rose again in his cheeks.

The silence stretched between them. Danitz suspected he’d pushed too far. ‘He’s going to kill me. There’s no way he-‘

“Ok.” 

Danitz snapped his attention back to Gehrman’s face. The man’s cheeks were red, his chest rising and falling unsteadily, but he met Danitz’s gaze evenly. Again, it almost felt like a challenge. 

That decided him. Danitz took a half-step back, pivoting to one side. Their gazes didn’t break. His hands moved to his belt, metal and leather jiggling as he loosened it, every button of his fly unfastened with a steady hand. 

He took himself out, calloused fingers stroking his achingly hard shaft. With his other hand, he pointed to the spot before his feet, gaze never leaving the other’s face. 

“Suck my dick, Gehrman Sparrow.” He couldn’t help himself. It was the Provoker in him. 

Time stood still. He’d finally pushed too far. He knew it in his heart. He shouldn’t have made it sound like a command. He’s dealing with a deadly virgin. A man who’d readily convert him to gold pounds the moment he got what he wanted out of this. He was already thinking up a backup plan. Gehrman still needed the curse broken, so if he could smooth this over maybe he’d get to live. 

‘He really wants me to…’ a strange, conflicting feeling twisted through Klein. The feeling was setting off alarm bells in his mind. The way Danitz had looked at him, the way he’d smugly made that demand. He wanted to punch the pirate. But, inconceivably, it also sent an excited shiver through his whole body. 

He liked that. He hated that he liked that. ‘Wait no… maybe it’s… maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s Gehrman! Yes, the persona. He’s the one who likes it. The powerful pirate slayer, reduced to taking orders from a pirate. No. Choosing to! Yes, he’s allowing it, it’s a benevolent gift.’ Did Danitz deserve such a gift? He shoved the thought aside. He shoved all his thoughts aside. 

With barely shaking hands, Gehrman loosened his tie, undoing the top buttons of his shirt. Then he slid off the edge of the bed, getting onto his knees with the solemnity of a man kneeling for prayer. 

He needed a moment to prepare himself before he finally let his gaze settle on Danitz’s cock. He bit the tip of his tongue before reaching out. His fingertips brushed against the skin, hand flinching back as if he’d expected it to burn. But it didn’t. Danitz’s skin was smooth to the touch, warm with life. 

Somehow, Danitz knew to keep his mouth shut. He watched in awe as the dangerous man knelt before him, his eyes flicking from Gehrman’s face to his hand, watching the experimental touch. It reminded him of a wary feral cat. He half expected the man to hiss. 

But he didn’t. 

Danitz had to hold himself back from urging Gehrman to hurry it up. He was smart enough to know better than to startle the man. Gehrman took hold of the shaft and Danitz’s fingers slid away, letting the crazy adventurer take him in hand. 

With mixed emotions, Klein scrunched his eyes shut and leaned closer, until his lips pressed against the tip. He  stayed there for a moment, unmoving, showing himself that everything would be fine. 

‘The things I do to save my own skin,’ he muttered inwardly to himself before he opened his mouth and leaned forward. He took the whole thing quickly into his mouth, pushing himself down. Then, he jerked back, landing hard on his ass. At the last second his impeccable balance saved him from falling flat on his back as he coughed and gagged violently.

Danitz choked back a laugh but was unable to stop his lips from quirking into a cocky grin, “Slow down,” he advised, “I’m pretty big, you know. Only the best cock guzzlers on the dock can handle all of me that fast.” 

Gehrman glared up at Danitz as he swallowed down his bile, throat burning. ‘Pretty big? I’ll show you pretty big…!’ 

When he’d chosen Gehrman’s face and other features, he’d neglected to change his genitals. Why bother? It’s not like anyone would be identifying him by his cock, and if they were, things and really gone south. So, the Faceless took a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

He looked meditative. In reality, having seen and touched Danitz’s fully erect cock, Klein was making use of his Faceless powers in the pettiest way he could imagine: making Gehrman Sparrow more impressively endowed than Danitz by just enough to really annoy the pirate. 

In an instant, his trousers went from tight to uncomfortably tight. Restraining. His breath hitched at the shift in sensation. 

Danitz was still grinning that shit eating grin. He graciously allowed Gehrman enough time to recover from the blunder. Mostly because he didn’t want to die. Once the adventurer pulled his knees back under himself, Danitz nodded, “Good recovery. Nice job not puking.” Provocation seemed to override his self preservation at the worst moments. 

“You would have been the one to clean it up,” Klein muttered, realizing too late that he’d said it out loud. Too chatty for Gehrman. He set his face back into his default expression, finding comfort in the familiarity of his mask. 

Danitz didn’t seem to notice the slip. He was caught up in the moment. He reached out, the back of one knuckle impulsively tracing up the side of Gehrman’s cheekbone. 

The touch was gentle until he made it to that tidy hair. Then he dug his fingers in, taking a firm grip. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but enough to guide. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he said, benevolently tugging Gehrman closer. He grabbed himself with his other hand, holding his cock steady as he used it to caress Gehrman’s cheek, then down to drag the tip across his lower lip.   

For his part, Gehrman held deathly still, eyes flicking towards that hard shaft. Danitz leered, explaining “Try kissing it. Licking it. Work up to it bit by bit, don’t just shove the whole thing down your throat like some rookie cock sucker.”

‘…but I am a rookie cock sucker.’ A quick study in both lives, he took the advice to heart. He let Danitz hold it this time, bracing his weight on his hands as he leaned closer, lips pressing against the flared head. He kissed softly, timid yet bold at the same time. His lips parted, mimicking the memory of how Danitz had kissed his mouth. His tongue traced the shape of it, the first flick uncertain and quick, the second longer, dragging along the shape of it.

Danitz groaned his approval. 

Gehrman continued. Ears burning and face hot, humiliation, elation, and dread came together in his gut like an unstable potion.  Thinking of the way he would touch himself when he’d neglected his body’s needs too long, he dragged his tongue to those places, taking inspiration from his meager first hand experiences. 

While Klein’s previous life as a keyboard expert of many fields had helped him greatly in the past, unfortunately, ‘keyboard pornographer’ was not on his list of expertise. He could only pull from his infrequent sessions of self pleasure. 

It seemed to work. Danitz tightened his grip on Gehrman’s hair but didn’t offer any more direction, pleased enough with the improvements. 

Klein felt pride welling up in his chest. ‘Wait, pride? Well. I guess it’s an accomplishment.’ 

Gehrman dragged his tongue over the tip, salty precum smearing. He froze at the taste, a fine shudder passing through his shoulders and down his spine. Danitz’s hand held him in place, he couldn’t pull back. The Seer pathway was not suited for a test of strength, but he found himself testing that strong grip anyway, just enough to feel Danitz’s steady strength holding him in place.

He was unaware of the nervous tirade in the pirate’s mind, (‘Dogshit! He’s really going to kill me for this!’) Gehrman hardly realized that just one serious glare would have Danitz kowtowing and begging forgiveness. 

Meanwhile, Gehrman was having himself a good old fashioned bout of over thinking. ‘Remember you asked for this. You want to break the curse. It only has to happen once. Danitz isn’t going to tell anyone. I can make sure of that. I hate that I don’t hate this. I should hate this. I’m not gay. I’m not gay, right? It’s not gay to suck a dick to break a curse right? Wait, what am I even thinking?’ 

Resolute, he dragged his tongue against the slit, then wrapped his lips around the head. A wet suckling sound filled the quiet room, Gehrman’s fingers dug into the wood floor beneath him. One of his hands lifted, moving towards his tightly confined erection, but he forced himself to put it down. The thought of touching himself while he had Danitz in his mouth was a little overwhelming.

“That’s nice, much better,” Danitz growled the encouragement. 

His ears burned. His eyes were screwed tightly shut. He slid a little more of that hard cock into his mouth, tongue sweeping over it experimentally. His own cock throbbed with need. His lips loosened, a shuddering moan escaping him. 

`Oh. Oh no.’ A creeping realization clawed it’s way through him. ‘I like this?’ He froze in place, mouth full of cock. ‘I’m not gay, but…’ 

He started moving again, a slow suckle, lips wrapping tight around the shaft, wetly sliding back a little before he started to bob his head, restraining himself to the top half of the shaft. He nervously shied away from letting Danitz too close to his throat. ‘Maybe I’m… bi? There’s nothing wrong with that… I mean, Leonard’s probably gay, and he’s kinda self-centered, but he’s a good guy, everyone liked him. I bet he’s great at this. Wait. Why am I thinking of Leonard right now?’

Shoving both his sexual orientation identity crisis and his dear poet to the back of his mind, he narrowed his focus until nothing existed but physical sensation. His movements grew looser, less mechanical. 

He finally lifted a hand off the floor, cupping himself through his trousers, heel of his hand rubbing himself through the cloth. Dignity be damned. 

That was the moment Danitz pulled back, cock sliding away from Gehrman until it left his mouth with an audible pop. A string of spit trailed between them, clinging to Gehrman’s open lips.

Gehrman’s face was wet, lips parted, a haze of lust in those dangerous eyes. He turned his face up as Danitz’s cock pulled away. He was a mess. A beautiful mess. 

‘How is he so damn hot? Dogshit! It’s not fair.‘ The pirate thought to himself, before speaking “Now you’re warmed up. Get up. Strip.”  

Gehrman rose from the floor. Rather than avert his gaze, he turned his back towards Danitz instead. The pirate watched as the man began to undress himself, fingers deftly working the buttons. ‘Trusts me enough to face his back to me while unarmed. That’s a good sign, right?’ 

Once his shirt was off, Gehrman turned in place and held it towards Danitz. Their eyes met. It took a minute for it to click in Danitz’s head. He took the shirt, holding his pants up with one hand. 

‘He trying to remind me who’s in charge? Dogshit. Whatever.’ Scowling about it, he dealt with Gehrman’s shirt, folding it neatly while he watched the mad pirate slayer remove his shoes. 

There was nothing sensual about the stripping. Though the lust still lingered in his eyes, he’d reverted to that same old expression, lips turned down. Trousers off, he tossed them at Danitz, who had to dart to catch them. By the time he was done putting away all the clothes Gehrman threw at him the man stood fully nude, his back to Danitz. 

There was tension in his shoulders. Danitz eyed him from across the room as he took off his own clothes, treating them with half as much care as he’d treated Gehrman’s. It all landed in an out of the way pile for later. 

He crossed the floor in a hunter’s stalk, sizing Gehrman up like he might any target. 

Though he was on edge about the way Danitz approached him, Klein’s spiritual intuition remained silent. There was no ill intent. Even so, he couldn’t relax.

“You’re too tense,” Danitz said as he came to a stop behind him. His hand rose, fingertips tracing up the line of Gehrman’s spine. His lips curved into a wicked grin when the adventurer shifted under as if about to step away before he stopped himself from moving.

‘Hehe, you’re the one who asked for this, aren’t you?’ His hands settled on Gehrman’s sides, palms flat to the skin. When the adventurer didn’t pull away from the touch, Danitz slid those wicked hands around, tracing muscles and scars upwards. He pinched both nipples. Gehrman gasped. Danitz leaned in to press his face against the crook of Gehrman’s neck, surrounding himself with the man’s scent.  

He breathed in, lips skimming along that slim neck until they brushed an earlobe. He flicked it with his tongue then took it into his mouth.

Gehrman squeaked.

They both froze on the spot. 

Klein wanted to sink into the earth. Which pathway could do that, again? Maybe he should have been that. Before he could spiral, warmth pressed to his back as Danitz pulled him closer, chest vibrating with a low chuckle. It wasn’t a mean spirited sound. 

“More of that,” he encouraged, “sex is about letting go. Not holding on.” As he spoke he settled their bodies together, his hard cock nestling against the slight curve of Gehrman’s ass. He pinched both nipples again, kneading them between his fingers. 

Gehrman squirmed against his body, a low huff of sound escaping his lips. Danitz was quick to give feedback, imagining what his beloved Vice Admiral Iceberg might say in this sort of ‘class’. “Good, like that. You’re supposed to enjoy sex. Let yourself feel good.” 

Lips caught Gehrman’s ear again, earning another sound muffled in the adventurer’s throat. He leaned into it, then away, as if he was having difficulty figuring out if we wanted more or wanted to squirm away. 

‘Is he ticklish?!’ Danitz wondered to himself when the man in his arms squirmed indecisively. One hand kept playing with the captive nipple, pinching and rolling it between calloused fingers while the other hand slid down, tracing the shape of muscles. He ventured further, capturing Gehrman’s balls in one hand. 

Those hips pressed closer to Danitz’s hand, as if were being led around by that grip. ‘He’s got me by the nuts. He’s got to be feeling so cocky right now… ugh. I hate that I don’t hate this…! It’s the Demoness Coin I hate!’ Klein’s pulse fluttered nervously, his gut was giving him conflicting feelings, but his spiritual intuition betrayed no danger. He took a deep breath and fought back the whimper that struggled to escape. He was on edge.

Danitz was certainly feeling something. ‘He’s gonna kill me after this. He’s going to kill me after this. I’m a dead man.’ 

He gave his handful a gentle, massaging squeeze before letting go. His hand drifted, fingers wrapping around the base of Gehrman’s cock. Encircling him with is hand, he stopped, brows furrowing. He slid his hand along the shaft, until his fingers captured the head, thumb caressing over the tip, spreading slick precum. Gehrman shuddered in his arms, a low moan dragging out. 

Intimately familiar with the feeling of himself in his hand, Danitz instantly realized, ‘He’s bigger than me. Dogshit! Dogshit! Dogshit! This cock is wasted on you, virgin idiot!’ 

The way Danitz growled in his throat when he handled Gehrman’s cock was enough to tip Klein off. ‘He noticed!’ Right on the tail of that moan, a snicker bubbled up unbidden and he didn’t stop it. 

Gehrman bared his teeth, though Danitz couldn’t see from his angle, “I’m pretty big, aren’t I?”

“Dogshit,” Danitz growled against Gehrman’s neck.
 
Klein felt his Faceless potion digest a little bit. ‘…are you kidding me right now?’

His train of thought was utterly derailed when teeth bit down on his neck, a sudden pinch that came the moment Danitz’s hand got to work on his shaft. A sharp cry ripped unbidden from his lips, knees suddenly weak, hips jolting towards the touch. He had just enough presence of mind to control his balance, but not enough to stop his expression nor quiet his voice. 

Satisfaction curled in Danitz’s gut, his own hips rocking slightly against Gehrman, cock rubbing against his ass cheek. After what felt like forever, he pulled his mouth back from Gehrman’s throat. With a wet pop, the suction broke. He leaned back, inspecting his work. The skin was blemished with spotty red. He’d left his mark low enough to be covered by clothing. 

In his arms, Gehrman was thrashing slightly, hips rocking into his hand’s strokes. One of the adventurer’s hands rested on Danitz’s arm, blunt nails digging into the skin. The other hand was in Danitz’s hair, gripping at the charred yellow strands. 

His breathing was heavy, punctuated by the small vocalizations he failed to suppress. 

‘When was the last time this guy even touched himself? He’s so tightly wound. Keeps trying to shut himself up. Everything I do to him is like he’s fighting against himself.’ Far more educated than the average pirate, he could figure that much out easily. Making a thoughtful sound, he leaned in again, lips brushing Gehrman’s ear. “You want this to work, don’t you? Hold back too much and the curse might not break, right?” 

Klein stilled, his voice breathy and even a little hesitant as he said, “Right…” 

Danitz pulled away, his hand trailing fingertips along the bottom of Gehrman’s cock as it withdrew. He left the man standing there alone, marking the slight sway as they parted. 

The pirate admired the view for a moment before he gave his instructions with a provocative grin on his lips. “Kneel on the bed, hands on the headboard. I want to see legs spread and ass up, Sparrow.” 

The words were met with silence. Then, compliance. 

Face burning hot, Klein approached the bed. He slid onto it on his knees, facing the wall. His hands gripped the top of the headboard, gaze dropped to his knuckles. 

‘No complaints? No glares? He’s not even looking at me. He just… did it. Isn’t that a little too obedient for the great Gehrman Sparrow?’ Arousal overriding caution, Danitz stepped to the side of the bed and reached out with both hands, pushing Gehrman’s legs further apart, nudging at his hips to make him reposition. 

Once he was pleased with the man’s positioning, he slapped Gehrman’s ass so hard the crack of it echoed in the room and left his hand tingling. 

Klein yelped out loud, jolting from the contact, wide eyed, mouth hanging open. His spiritual intuition hadn’t gone off. It wasn’t an attack. It wasn’t an act of malice. He wasn’t expecting the spank and he really wasn’t expecting the way it made his skin tingle, his cock throb with need. 

‘What?? I-I hate pain. Why am I ok with that?? It’s got to be the curse. It has to be the curse, making me into a deviant. That must be it. When this is all over maybe I won’t be into any of this?’ His orientation identity worries didn’t get enough of a foothold to send him spiraling this time. He was too turned on to have a crisis. 

He was practically panting. The position was so lewd that he couldn’t suppress the needy desires flooding his mind. He rocked his hips slightly, as if seeking some kind of comfort. Some sweet friction. He wanted Danitz to touch his cock again. He wanted to touch himself.

But Danitz had told him to hold the headboard.

‘Why am I just doing what he tells me to? Why does it feel… right?’ Klein’s brows drew down in concern at himself, muddling through his horny thoughts and self-reflections. ‘…it’s hot.’ The realization was uncomfortable. Something he’d need to come back to after the curse was broken. ‘It’s just… so hot to let him do this…’ 

“Keep facing the wall,” Danitz said as he dipped over to his pile of belongings, digging through a bag. He had something that would work for lubricant somewhere. He just had to find it. While he searched, he scrutinized Gehrman from across the room. 

‘It’s weird. He’s letting me do whatever I want. What the hell? Is he into this? Is this what gets him off, letting someone he spends all day treating like a servant get back at him? Is this self-flagellation? Or maybe he’s had the hots for me since we met. Maybe that’s why he’s been making me carry his bags and act like his butler and pay for everything all this time. He could’ve turned me in for the bounty any time he wanted! He’s secretly been wanting this? Is the curse even real? Dogshit! Is this just some weird fetish?’ 

Danitz’s mind was working overtime by the time he found the oil he was after. He gripped it in his hand, another thought kindling.‘…even for sex, he’s making me do all the work.’ 

Perturbed, he went back to the bedside. Gehrman hadn’t moved, still kneeling facing the headboard, his head bowed, hands gripping the top of it hard enough to turn his knuckles white. A smirk curled Danitz’s lips when he saw the red hand mark he’d left on his ass. 

‘Maybe I spanked him a bit hard,’ he admitted to himself, ‘but I didn’t hear him complain about it! …wonder if he’d let me do it again…’   

Setting the bottle of oil down within reach, Danitz slid onto the bed behind Gehrman. Kneeling, his hands moved to grip his hips, fixing their angle. Then, he spread his cheeks, holding him open to his gaze. 

Klein stopped breathing, eyes wide, body holding utterly still. He felt vulnerable. Utterly vulnerable. He knew he could leap to the nearest flame and be instantly out of the situation but that feeling of vulnerability still stuck. He still chose to remain there, still allowed Danitz to manhandle him how he wanted. 

It felt… it felt like a lot of things. Lewd. Naughty. Nasty. Terrifying. Exhilarating. Sexy. Exciting.

After what felt like ages, Danitz plucked that bottle back up. Klein didn’t see what he was doing. He felt something thick and wet drip on his crack. He jolted slightly, then Danitz’s hand was back, fingers stroking the slick oil down. The tip of one finger languidly circled Gehrman’s anus. 

The touch had Klein’s hips squirming, “Ah!” A soft huff of surprise left him. Then, he felt pressure, one finger pressing against the tight ring. Klein trembled.

Danitz leaned in, licked the shell of Gehrman’s ear, reveled in the excited squirm it earned him. The adventurer was getting a little better at this. Danitz grinned, tilting his head as he asked, voice breathy, pointed, “Have you ever had anything inside of you before, Virgin Sparrow?” The provocation came across surprisingly playful. 

Klein scrunched his eyes closed, thinking back on both lives, back on his original life and the years where Klein was his own person, before he’d been replaced. His voice shook, “Nothing,” he confirmed. 

The finger pressed deeper, past the tight ring, “Relax. Deep breath, relax,” Danitz whispered as it sank into him. 

When Klein created Gehrman Sparrow, he hadn’t contemplated what Gehrman would be like in bed. It was straining him to try to come up with it now in the midst of things, between the lust addling his mind and the urgency of breaking the curse. He lacked the luxury of time. 

So, when Danitz’s finger pressed into him, he didn’t give a calculated, intentional performance. He just reacted naturally. His head dipped, his hips jerked, and a nervous whimpering escaped his lips. 

Warm breath puffed against Klein’s ear, then a soft kiss pressed to his tragus. The finger sank deeper as Danitz kept whispering to him. “That’s good, like that. Relax, take it. I’ve got you.” 

All things considered, Klein had not anticipated this side of Danitz. Patient, encouraging. Gentle. It was sharply at odds with the man’s usual behavior towards him, not to mention the harsh slap on the ass, the provocative demand to suck his dick, and the directions he’d tossed around. 

Or was it? 

Klein was too far out of his depth to be sure. People had layers, and maybe this was just another layer. A side of Danitz he’d just never had occasion to see before. A side he’d never had permission to experience until now. 

Could Gehrman be the same? 

Dazed, thoughts sluggish, body reacting readily to Danitz’s touch, the realization bloomed in his mind. 

Maybe he wasn’t out of character. Maybe he was discovering another side of the persona. The crazy adventurer, the great and powerful Gehrman Sparrow, scourge of pirates, seeker of bounties. Why couldn’t he also have a side that craved genuine human connection? That sought to put down the mantle, to unfurl, to let himself go? 

The fact that it lined up so well with his truth didn’t make it bad acting, right? 

The same moment he had that thought, Danitz’s finger finally sank to its deepest, giving an exploratory wiggle. The surprised cry that tore from Klein’s lips was half from the penetration, half from the sudden feedback of his potion’s incremental digestion. Danitz paused, giving Gehrman a moment to adjust. 

‘People have layers. They aren’t just one dimensional beings. To truly act the part of the Faceless, I have to embrace that fact. To make the identity truly a person. To embody them wholly, not just at the surface level. Yet to still retain myself beneath the mask. I… I’m lonely, when I act as him. But, I’m not the only lonely one: Gehrman is too.’

The thoughts bled through his mind like a divine revelation. 

He turned his head towards Danitz, hands gripping the headboard tight as he twisted in place. His lips parted, drawing in a panting breath as he nuzzled back towards the golden haired pirate. It took only a second of confusion for Danitz to guess what he wanted. Still close from whispering in the adventurer’s ear, he closed the gap, lips pressed to lips.

Gehrman kissed him like he was starving, inelegant and eager. Their tongues clashed and a low moan was muffled in their kiss. His hips bucked backwards, an almost instinctive demand. Danitz explored inside of him with that finger. When Gehrman broke the kiss to cry out in wordless pleasure, he knew he’d found the spot. 

Whatever was happening in that crazy bastard’s head, it was like a switch had been flipped. Danitz teased at that bundle of nerves, playing with Gehrman’s prostate. The taciturn man practically sang for him in response. 

Pulling back, he added a second finger and earned a gasp and whimper. It would be easy for him to get drunk on the sound of the crazy adventurer falling apart under his attention.

‘Fuck. He sounds so sweet. Right. It’s his first time.’ Gehrman was trembling as Danitz carefully scissored his fingers, stretching that tight hole wider, ‘I’m gonna give him the time of his life. Every time he looks at me, he’s going to think of my cock inside him. Dogshit, he’s not crazy enough to kill me for it later, right? He’s the one who asked for it!’ 

Eagerness and patience went to war in Danitz’s heart. 

Patience lost the battle.

His fingers slid out and he treated the man to a second swat on the ass. Gehrman’s soft cry was like music in Danitz’s soul. He watched the man pant as he got into position behind him, guiding himself to press the tip of his cock against the stretched hole. Slathering himself with a generous fist of oil, he wrapped his other arm around Gehrman, tugging him back towards his chest.

For another partner, it would be kindness and consideration driving him to be so gentle when his instincts screamed at him to plunge in. With Gehrman, it was self-preservation. He rubbed the tip in a slow circle, torturing himself as he slowly started to sink in. 

“Deep breath,” he said again, “relax. The pain doesn’t last long.” The warning made, he started to advance in earnest.

He’d heard Gehrman make less noise from a gunshot wound. 

“Fuck!” The adventurer jolted, hips jerking, voice sharp. He was shaking in Danitz’s arms. 

A heady mix of amusement, satisfaction, and fear twisted in Danitz’s gut. “You’re alright,” he encouraged, letting himself slide a centimeter deeper. Gehrman was tight, his body opening for Danitz little by little. “It’s worth it, I’ll take care of you.” 

Comforting him felt awkward on his tongue, but it was a necessity. Even with the slim man pinned between his cock and the headboard, he held no illusions that Gehrman was truly at his mercy. Even if he was, there was always the risk of Gehrman deciding on murder once he’d recovered from their tryst. 

So Danitz was going to fuck him like his life depended on it. 

His hand wrapped around Gehrman’s cock again. Brushing off his irritation at the man’s endowments, his oiled fingers caressed him from root to tip. 

The touch refocused Gehrman’s attention. Danitz stroked him slowly as he sank in deeper and deeper until finally his hips were flush with Gehrman’s skin. 

Sweet bliss. Danitz breathed in deep, face pressed to the curve of Gehrman’s neck. His Hunter’s sharp senses took it in, catalogued it automatically. 

Sweat, skin. A scent below it that was inherently Gehrman, a blend of sea spray and gunpowder, the odd hint of night vanilla undertones. The smell of oil and sex permeated it all. 

A low groan of need escaped him and he licked the mark he’d already left on Gehrman’s neck. Then, he kissed it once before he captured the spot with his teeth. He felt the pound of Gehrman’s pulse and held him like prey. His hips finally withdrew, sliding back, his hand mimicking the motion as it slid along the adventurer’s oil-slicked cock. 

He surged forward, his first thrust re-sheathing him. 

“AH! FUCK!” Gehrman’s voice echoed off the walls.

Danitz bit down, hips drawing back. He thrust again, then once more. He found a rhythm. Steady, deep. Slow. His hand echoed it, stroking his partner in time with every movement. 

Gehrman’s cries evened out, turning into heavy breathing and low, shaky moans. He’d begun to chase the feelings, hips thrusting into Danitz’s hand, rocking back to meet each thrust.

Pain melted to pleasure, bliss giving way to a loss of thoughts. It built on itself, taking him higher and higher with every stroke. 

“More,” the word eventually fell from his lips, a needy demand wrapped in a plea, “more, more!” 

He was close. So close he ached for it. His body shook, his mind blank of anything but the promise of pleasure. 

Then Danitz stopped. His hips froze, his hand stilled. 

Gehrman choked back a confused sound.

Danitz pulled away, his hand abandoning its post, his cock sliding out. It left Gehrman dazed, confused. 

“Let go of the headboard.” 

He did. Danitz grabbed him around the middle. Gehrman’s back hit the bedding, his eyes half-lidded as Danitz settled between his legs. 

Their gazes met, both equally lust hazed. Their chests heaved with effort. 

They weren’t done yet. The curse still clung steady, a throb in their loins, a needful urgency overriding everything. 

Danitz answered the call. 

He spread Gehrman’s legs wide then guided himself back into that tight heat. They both groaned with pleasure and Danitz got right back to it, fisting Gehrman’s cock and bracing his weight with the other hand. 

Now he could watch Gehrman’s face. He couldn’t get enough of it, the way that taciturn, cold man had melted away and left this beautiful mess behind. Whatever feats of self-control kept those eyes glinting and lips scowling was gone. Stripped away, it left him bare. Human. 

Still Gehrman. Still terrifying. Still dangerous. But now he was staring up at Danitz with his lips slightly parted, his chest heaving. His hands had gripped for the pirate’s shoulders, his vice grip now on skin instead of headboard. 

He clung close while Danitz fucked him. Hard. Steady. Deep. 

It built up again. His tense legs first held himself up for Danitz’s thrusts before giving up and wrapping tight around his hips. 

“Just,” Danitz panted, “let go. Let yourself feel. Don’t think. Don’t think.” 

‘Is he talking to me, or himself?’ Klein thought helplessly, clinging to the pirate. 

“Don’t think, just feel. Come for me. Come.” His hand was relentless, faster now, his hips trying to keep up. He thrust so hard that Gehrman slid across the mattress, only the pillow saving him from hitting his head on the headboard. 

The sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing filled the room. Heat, sweat. Gehrman pried his hand loose from Danitz’s shoulder, grabbing a fist full of flame kissed gold and forcing Danitz closer.

He drowned his own scream in their kiss, pleasure overtaking him, a primal sound that left his throat sore. 

Gehrman came when their lips parted. Danitz sat up on his knees, watching it happen with unrestrained joy. The crazy bastard had climaxed so hard that a splash of his own cum decorated his cheek. 

‘I did that to him!’ The satisfaction was all he needed. Danitz thrust himself as deep as he could, grinding hard against Gehrman’s well-used ass as he let orgasm take him. He spilled every last drop he had to give inside of him. 

He knelt there, panting heavily, eyes wide as a strange chill passed through him. It started at his extremities, pooled heavy and low in his belly. 

Klein felt it too, a shudder passing through his body. 

Then, a black mist surfaced, rising out of both of them and mingling together. The smoke swirled together between them, snuffing out of existence with the sound of a woman’s satisfied sigh.

They both watched it happen, awash in relief. 

Danitz took a deep breath, sliding carefully out of Gehrman before he rolled to lay on his back, panting up at the ceiling. He just needed a moment to rest, then he’d get cleaned up and do the best job he could at pretending none of this happened. 

It seemed the best way to ensure his continued existence tomorrow. 

Beside him, Gehrman stirred, sitting up. He moved closer, laying himself down beside Danitz, his head quietly nestling on the pirate’s chest.

Neither of them said a word. After a moment, Danitz put his arm loosely around him. Gehrman said nothing. 

They stayed like that for several moments, until Danitz realized the adventure’s breathing had evened out. He was asleep. 

Both were sweaty, sticky, and badly in need of a bath, but what more could Danitz do? If Gehrman had decided he was a pillow, then he was a pillow. 

He closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

Danitz slept soundly until he sensed a sudden motion at his side. His eyes snapped open, only to find Gehrman staring down at him with an unguarded look of surprise. Their eyes met. A blush promptly rose on Gehrman’s face. 

'Yeah, he’s about to kill me,’ Danitz thought with sleepy certainty. Might as well grab a shovel. He grinned up at Gehrman, “You ever want more of that, just say ‘please’.” 

The minor provocation was met with silence.

Gehrman peeled away. Their skin stuck together in a few places and Danitz’s sensitive nose wrinkled. They both badly needed to bathe. Without a word, without looking back, Gehrman got out of bed. His first step was unsteady, a slight stumble quickly corrected before his gait turned smooth. He vanished into the bathroom, door closing behind him. 

That quick correction had to be a Beyonder power, Danitz mused as he replayed the sight in his head. 

By the time Gehrman emerged and surrendered the bathroom to him, the taciturn silence and glares had returned. Taking it as a sign to pretend last night was a dream, Danitz survived the morning with no incident. 

Klein was a mess. If it weren’t for the grace of his Clown control, there was no way he could have faced Danitz. From the moment he woke up, every time his eyes fell on him he kept replaying last night in his head. 

He wasn’t even angry when he found the dark red mark at his neck, nor when he discovered a scattering of bruises on his hips where fingers had pressed hard. The memories were burning bright in his mind. The marks were all easily hidden by his clothes. Out of sight, but far from out of mind. 

'The curse is broken. So why do I still feel so… excited about what happened?’ He thought to himself as he emerged from the bathroom in only a towel. 

Danitz walked past him to take his turn in the bathroom. Klein kept Gehrman’s face under tight control, only offering the other man a cold nod as he passed him. A quiet relief filled him when the bathroom door closed. 

He dressed quickly and headed down for breakfast before Danitz made it out of the bath. Klein utilized his Clown powers to hide the residual discomfort of last night. He was very, very aware of his ass all day.

—-

It was back to business as usual. Danitz was fine with that. He lived to not tell the tale, and he was happy to take their secret to the grave. 

Or so he told himself. 

But things weren’t back to normal. Not completely. He realized the silent change between them three days later when, after another successful hunt, Gehrman’d put his hand on Danitz’s shoulder. 

The touch was casual. Fleeting. Warm. “Arrange the bounties,” Gehrman said, and then his hand was gone, the man walking towards their inn. 

Danitz rose his hand to brush at his shoulder, then paused, scowling, “Dogshit,” muttered under his breath.

—-

For Klein, nothing was the same again.

He learned to yearn. 

His body, his mind. Something new had opened up before him and he found himself wanting things he refused to put to words. 

He never stopped replaying that night in his head. The tastes. The sounds. The feelings. He dreamed of it, awaking with a half-choked sob as he spilled himself in his pajama pants. He’d slunk quietly into the bathroom to clean his shame. 

When he was all alone, when he’d sent Danitz out on a long enough errand, the inn quiet, the door locked, he chased that high. His hand was never enough. No matter what he did to himself, he was left with disappointment curling in his gut. 

Before, he could go weeks without touching himself. Now, he found himself making plans. More than once, when Danitz was resting in their room, Klein locked himself in the bathroom and smothered his mouth with one hand, his Clown control hyper focused on keeping him silent. He touched himself to completion, traitorous mind replaying the memory of Danitz’s mouth, his hands, his cock, all while the man himself was oblivious. 

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

The frustration cost him. 

—-

 A week and a half after their tryst, in the midst of a surprise battle, Gehrman made a fatal mistake. It happened so fast that Danitz hardly had time to comprehend the events. 

‘The hell just happened?’ Was all he had a chance to think before Gehrman hit the ground hard and didn’t get up. ‘Shit, shit, shit! Dogshit!’

The enemy’s gunshot still ringing in his ears, the pyromaniac threw himself between his fallen comrade and the last pirate standing. Gehrman coughed, still down. A splash of blood splattered from his lips. Dark red seeped through his coat. 

Flames burst to life around Danitz. Birds of fire circled then struck for the enemy in rapid succession. Soon nothing remained but a charred corpse. 

It cost too many seconds. 

Danitz dropped to his knees at Gehrman’s side, grabbing him and hauling the man up into his arms. ‘Don’t be dead, asshole. You don’t get to die on me.’ 

Blood streamed from the corner of the crazy adventurer’s mouth, which was wide and gasping, a slight wheeze with every exhalation. Bubbles of blood clung to his lips.
 
His eyes were wide. Too wide. He didn’t seem to see Danitz, even struggled against his grip. Danitz scrutinized the wound. A bloody hole marked Gehrman’s upper chest, blood spilling both front and back. ‘Didn’t hit the heart but got his lung.’

“Dogshit! Listen to me!” He grabbed Gehrman’s hand, placed the palm over the bloody wound. He made a guess about the man’s abilities; he’d once moved a deadly wound for him. Surely he could do it on himself. 

Still struggling for breath, Gehrman snapped to focus, eyes on Danitz’s face. 

“Grab it. We’re moving it, like y’did for me. Ready?” 

Gehrman nodded his head, expression shifting into one of concentration. 

Danitz took it as his queue. He dragged that hand up to the shoulder then to Gehrman’s bicep. “Put it here.” 

The change was instant. Blood seeped into the sleeve. Gehrman gasped in a ragged breath then shoved himself out of Danitz’s arms, hitting the ground on his good arm as he immediately coughed up a glob of blood, followed by a round of vomiting. Hacking and sputtering, he cleared his throat and pulled in a proper lungful of air. 

When he finally mastered himself again, he sat up, a hand moving to his chest, expression distant before it smoothed out to Gehrman’s normal stance. The skin there was smooth and unbroken, covered by a layer of blood. He could move the wound itself but it did nothing for the blood already spilled. 

He shot Danitz a look-complicated, silent, soft around the edges-then pushed himself up onto his feet. 

“Take care of the bounties, then find the nearest doctor,” he instructed, good hand moving to rest protectively over his now-injured arm. 

When Danitz moved, Klein followed, good hand moving away from his injured arm. He held his gun, ready to defend himself if anyone got it into their head to prey on his wounded state. 

Nobody dared. The sight of Gehrman Sparrow covered in blood, eyes tight, lips tugged into a scowl, was enough to part an ocean. 

‘I almost died there,’ he thought as he kept close to Danitz. ‘Would I have come back again, from that? Would Danitz have seen it? Would there be witnesses? If I did, if there were, what would I have to do about it?’ 

He mulled over maybes and what-ifs, distracting himself from the wound in his arm. If it weren’t for his mastery of the Clown powers he’d have been sobbing in pain. As it stood, he managed to just look pissed off. 

He held his silence, looming behind Danitz like a bloody specter. Danitz made quick work of the arrangements with the local bartender and left with an address on a slip of paper. 

The recommended clinic was small and relatively sterile. The secretary at the front desk took one look at the pair as they stepped in and immediately ushered Gehrman and Danitz into the treatment room. 

The doctor was a Beyonder of the Planter pathway, a fact that had Klein inwardly sighing with relief. One powerful dose of painkillers and several stitches later, Klein had begun to lose track of time.

“Head to this Apothecary and buy this for the follow up treatment,” the doctor said as he hastily scribbled an address and a note for the apothecary, “Oh! And, it’ll take a few hours for the painkiller to wear off,” the doctor warned as he handed it off to Danitz, “They’re the good shit. We don’t scrimp here.”

“The good shit?” Danitz repeated.

“Mmhmm. Look.” The doctor tilted his head towards Gehrman. The man’s reputation preceded him, so the doctor had a feeling the dopey, dreamy expression that had settled onto the adventurer’s face was abnormal. 

Danitz followed the doctor’s gaze and almost jumped out of his skin at the sight. “Dogshit,” he hissed under his breath. 

'Haven’t seen him look anything close to that since the night we-‘ he forced his mind back to the present. 

Gehrman offered up a pleasant smile. “Thank you, Doctor.” 

“I’d say come back any time,” the doctor quipped, “but in my profession that’s more like a curse.” 

Gehrman snickered at the joke. 

Clearing his throat, Danitz took charge, “Let’s go get that medicine and get back to the inn.”
 
‘I can’t let him out of my sight,’ Danitz muttered silently, ‘if I let him do anything embarrassing I’m a dead man.’ 
He led Gehrman away from the clinic, referencing the address the doctor had given him, “This way.” 

They walked together in silence, weaving through the streets until Danitz abruptly realized Gehrman had stopped. He glanced back.

‘What’s he staring at?’ Danitz wondered, but Gehrman had already reached out and snagged Danitz’s sleeve, pulling him back. 

“We’re going in here!” He proclaimed firmly, gesturing at the door. 

Danitz looked inside, blinking at the display. Cookies, cakes, fluffy loaves of bread and other baked goods were laid out on display. Before he could stop him or even ask a question, Gehrman stepped into the shop. The tinkling of the bell snapped him out of it and he followed him in. 

The shop attendant cut herself off mid-greeting, blinking rapidly at the state Gehrman was in: a bloody hole in his coat, a blood soaked sleeve, his arm held close to his side. Danitz fluttered around in his wake like a stressed out attendant, not making the first impressions any better. 

‘Shit, I can’t let him embarrass himself!’ Danitz offered the woman his most winning smile, which seemed to make things worse. She leaned away from the pair. 

“Can I help you?” She asked. 

Danitz wrung his hands and offered an awkward laugh. 

Somehow, he talked Gehrman out of buying everything he laid eyes on with half-hearted assurances that they could always come back tomorrow. In the end, they left the shop with a large paper box cradled in Danitz’s arms and a couple icy bottles of sweetened tea tucked safely into his pockets. 

They made it in and out of the Apothecary’s shop with no incident. Much like the doctor, she was a Beyonder and the medicine, while expensive, was worth every pound. 

They drew a few curious, confused glances as they made their way back to the inn. Most of them seemed concerned about the bloody mess and quickly looked away and minded their own business when Danitz glared at them. Gehrman didn’t even seem to notice as he drifted along at Danitz’s side.

Danitz didn’t let his guard down until the moment he got Gehrman to sit down on the plush couch in their inn room. Unloading the medicine, baked goods, and tea onto the table in front of Gehrman, Danitz let himself drop into the matching recliner.

He hadn’t relaxed since the moment Gehrman’d been shot, and now he felt himself melting into the cushion. 

‘Still better keep an eye on him until he goes to bed,’ he thought as he watched Gehrman remove his bloody shirt and jacket, tossing the ruined garments aside before trying to open the tea one-handed. 

Danitz sat up, “Let me,” he said, sweeping in to take care of it. He wiped the condensation off the outside of the glass then removed the lid, handing the tea over to Gehrman’s good hand. 

Gehrman was smiling an absent little smile, the sort that someone might wear when thinking of happy things. It didn’t fit him at all. He’d been smiling almost the entire time since they left the doctor’s. 

‘At least he’s cheerful when he’s high. But fuck if it isn’t weird.’ 

Having a sip then setting the tea down, Gehrman nudged the box open and claimed a cookie. Taking a bite, he hummed approvingly, “These are good, try one,” he urged, motioning at the box with his good hand.

After a moment’s hesitation, Danitz took one too. It was sweet, with a nice crumble that melted into the mouth and left him salivating for more. “Damn good,” Danitz agreed. “What got you wanting sweets? You get a sweet tooth when you’re high?” 

“I’m not high.”

“Dogshit, the doctor said it himself.” 

Gehrman’s head tilted, brows furrowing as he thought back over that conversation. “Hmmm….” He glanced to the box of pastries, ‘I do have the munchies…’ he thought before sighing, “Fine. I’m high! Whatever. I just like pastries and sweets.” 

“I never see you go out of your way to get ‘em,” Danitz mused. 

“People take Southville Beer more seriously,” Gehrman said, “I like sweet tea better but it wouldn’t make sense.” 

Danitz squinted, wrapping his thoughts around that comment. ‘Wouldn’t make sense?’ 

When Danitz didn’t say anything, Gehrman kept talking, “Old Neil said I have the palate of a child, that I should be drinking something like Southville.” His tone turned softer, like he was dusting off a memory. 

‘Old Neil? Who?’ Danitz blinked, taking another bite of his cookie. Gehrman was… prattling? How unlike him. 

“Everyone laughed but even so, Captain still-“ his voice caught and his lips turned up into an exaggerated smile, “-still brought me tea sometimes. He remembered that.” 

'Captain? His old crew? He’s talking like they’re dead. Wait, did he serve on a ship before he turned bounty hunter? Wait, wait, no! Dogshit! I need him to shut the fuck up! There’s no way he’d ever tell me this. I’m a dead man if he remembers telling me!’

“I miss them, all of them,” Gehrman murmured. His gaze dropped and the words trailed off.

Danitz held his breath, tried to think of a distraction to steer Gehrman away from casually spilling his secrets everywhere. ‘I want to hear it, but I want to live to see tomorrow even more!’

“I miss my Captain too,” he offered thinking of how to hijack the conversation. If he could get them talking about the Golden Dream, they’d be in much safer territory. 

‘His inhibitions are shot to hell. Is this why I never see him get really drunk?’

Gehrman made a sound of agreement, “My first New Years was lonely.”

‘Why is he still talking about himself??’ Frazzled, Danitz nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been there before too,” he said quickly, grasping at conversational straws.

But Gehrman didn’t stop. “I remember watching everyone around me, wondering,” he closed his eyes as he spoke, that same over exaggerated smile on his lips, “who would notice if I vanished? There wasn’t anyone left to care, right?” 

‘No, no, no! Shut up, shut up!’ Danitz half-rose from his chair, ‘This is way too personal!!! Gehrman you’re signing my death warrant with your mouth!’ He gave an emphatic shake of his head, “Why don’t we talk about happier things?” he cut in inelegantly.

Gehrman paused, “It’s fine,” he assured. “I realized there was still one person I could count on to notice when I was gone.” He grinned, finishing, “My landlady, when the rent was due.” He burst into a laugh; bright and bold and beautiful. 

Danitz stared at him. ‘...He’s like a stranger.’ 

Gritting his teeth, he cut in while Gehrman was laughing, snatching control of the conversation. Trying to turn the topic back to the safety of the Golden Dream, he spoke at length about academics his captain instilled in them, nearly panicking when Gehrman tried to share an anecdote about his time at ‘the university’. 

‘I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know! You wouldn’t want me to know so why won’t you shut up? At least I don’t have context for any of this! But, Dogshit, this guy’s going to be pissed tomorrow!’ 

Finally they landed on history and spent nearly two hours debating the importance of Emperor Roselle, of all things. The hardest part of debating a high Gehrman Sparrow was how his mind seemed to hop from thought to thought without providing context in between. Danitz did everything he could to keep up. 

It was a surreal, exhausting, terrifying evening for Danitz. 

---

It was a relaxing, warm evening for Klein. It’d been ages since he let himself get more than just a dessert here or there. The bakery box and sweet tea Danitz had carried back to the inn for them was the highlight of his evening.

Once his arm had stopped hurting, everything just clicked into place. He was lonely, so he did something about it, the words flowing like water. 

Every so often, in the lull between words, he’d feel adrift, like something wasn’t quite right. But he brushed it off. He’d cheated death again! It was worth taking a night off from, well, everything wasn’t it?

At the end of the evening, they’d even closed it off with an interesting, in depth, thought provoking debate about the plagiarist. 

‘As much as I poke fun at him, he did do great things for this world,’ he conceded silently in his heart. 

By the end of that conversation, he was starting to slow down, exhaustion drooping his eyelids. 

Then he noticed the ache in his arm. 

When he finally hissed and reached over to cradle the injured limb, Danitz jumped to his feet. 

“Right! Let me mix up the medicine. You feeling… more you?”

Klein frowned at that question. What kind of stupid question was… ‘Wait, what were we talking about before Roselle? We had the tea, the snacks… and… oh.’ He sat up straighter, immediately grasping for his Clown powers. Like flipping a switch, Gehrman Sparrow was back, his face a flat mask.

He saw Danitz tense up then relax before he turned his attention to mixing up the medicine, combining the packets into a mug of water, heating it with his pyromaniac flame. “Dogshit. That’s a yes isn’t it? I’ll keep my mouth shut about whatever that all was. You know that, right?” 

He’d revealed so much. His stomach was slowly sinking. But… he’d left out and glossed over details. Yes, he’d over shared, but it wasn’t like he’d fully exposed his previous identity. 

Besides. Danitz had kept their tryst a secret for well over a week now, he’d shown he could be trusted.

Slowly, his face relaxed, eyes closing. “I know,” he confirmed tersely. 

Ironic how Gehrman’s coldness seemed to make Danitz relax more. He handed the warm mug of medicine over and Klein accepted it, dutifully sipping. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t entirely awful. As he sipped, he watched Danitz bustle around the inn, tidying things up. 

“You should take a bath and get some rest,” Danitz said after a moment of hesitation, careful not to come across like he was ordering Gehrman around, “you’ll heal faster if you rest enough.” 

Klein glanced toward the inn’s bed.

‘I don’t want to be alone.’ The thought surfaced unbidden, the previous week’s frustration bubbling back up in his gut. ‘I’m tired of being alone. I keep losing everyone and everything. The only constant has been the Tarot Club, and even then… ugh. I made Mr. World to be more on their level than Mr. Fool, and I still feel a gulf widening.’ 

“What happened back there?” Danitz’s question dragged Klein back to the present. 

He wasn’t entirely sober yet, mind still easily set adrift, but the thoughts weren’t slipping through his fingers like water anymore. 

Danitz continued, “in the fight, what happened? You seemed distracted.”

“I was,” he replied, leaning into Gehrman’s persona, trying to revert to his acting. 

“By what? Anything I can do to make it not-happen next time?”

‘Is there anything you can do? I can think of a few things,’ Klein muttered inwardly. His gaze flicked over Danitz from head to toe and back, expression shifting ever so slightly to one of contemplation. Showing a little more expressiveness in private felt right.

He thought back over the week and a half of longing. The traitorous thoughts that ran through his head unbidden, thought of what the man standing in front of him had done to him. The longing was still there, a heavy stone in his gut. 

‘It wasn’t just the Demoness Coin. I thought I’d be over it, like waking up from a dream. But it’s still burning strong. Distracting me. I need…’ he took a slow breath, bowing his head. 

He recalled, vividly, Danitz’s teasing the morning they woke up together. ‘He said, if you want more of that, just say…’ 

“Please.” Gehrman kept his head bowed as he spoke, and the word was met with silence. He lifted his head, gaze searching Danitz’s face. He said it again, voice firm, despite the quiver in his gut, “Please.” 

Danitz stood rooted on the spot. It wasn’t until the second please that he realized what Gehrman meant. All at once, he recalled grinning up at Gehrman the morning after, that playful invitation falling from his lips. 

‘…what?’ Flabbergasted, he scrutinized Gehrman’s face. ‘…he’s serious. Dogshit. He’s actually asking for it.’ 

He stepped around the coffee table, until his shin gently bumped Gehrman’s knee. When he stood before him, he reached out, cupping his chin in one hand. 

Gehrman closed his eyes and nuzzled into the touch. Danitz’s gut did a flip. 

‘The things I want to do to him… the faces I want to see him make. Fuck, I want to hear him scream again.’ 

It was a tough call. He stood there, watching Gehrman nuzzle into his hand, feeling lips brush his palm. “You’re high,” he stated.

“Not like earlier.” Gehrman retorted, lips brushing that palm.

“You’re injured.” 

Gehrman had no response to that. He peered steadily over the top rim of his glasses, almost challenging. 

Danitz took a deep breath, committing to a decision. “When you’re healed,” he said, “When you’re healed and sober, ask again. I don’t want to rip your stitches, and I don’t want to do something you wouldn’t do when you’re sober.” inwardly, he added, ‘because I can’t be sure you wouldn’t kill me  when you sobered up.’ 

Lowering his gaze, Gehrman huffed a breath against Danitz’s palm. “Fine,” he accepted, hiding his disappointment behind his impassive mask. 

“Take a bath,” Danitz urged, “if you’re still lonely, you can use me for a pillow again. But I’m not fucking you tonight.” Their shared room only had one bed. Danitz had been sleeping on the couch. Sharing the bed with Gehrman wouldn’t be a chore. A sort of meet-in-the-middle of the man’s request. 

He wasn’t worried about any consequences tomorrow. He’d already kept the secret of Gehrman cuddling him that night, so what’s one more night? As for his confidence that he’d not give in to his desires, his self control could be quite strong when he willed it. If it wasn’t, German probably would have converted him to gold pounds long ago. 

Until it happened, he never would have guessed that Gehrman was the type to linger and cuddle. He’d expected a cold send off. Instead, he’d ended up holding Gehrman all night. 

“Careful not to get the bandages wet,” he said as Gehrman rose. 

The adventurer nodded. 

“If your wound gives you any trouble, just call for me.”

“I can bathe myself,” came Gehrman’s somewhat icy response, but Danitz spied a hint of red in the man’s cheeks.

‘Wasn’t he the one who was just asking me to fuck him?’ Danitz was the one silently lampooning now. 

The bathroom door clicked shut, but Danitz didn’t hear the lock flick into place. He grinned silently at that, settling down to wait for his turn in the bath. 

It left him alone with his thoughts. 

---

He kept his word that night, joining Gehrman in bed when he finished his bath. He let him curl up against his side and wrapped an arm around him, careful of Gehrman’s wound. Neither had worn a pajama shirt and Gehrman seemed keen to press against every inch of skin he could. 

When the adventurer got hard, Danitz pretended not to notice, even when Gehrman pressed himself against his leg. 

Danitz didn’t make a move and eventually they both drifted to sleep. The next night, acknowledging Danitz’s refusal of sex, Gehrman invited him to cuddle again. He fell asleep quickly at his side. This became a strange new routine.

They didn’t speak of it during the day, the invitations only issued right as Gehrman was heading to sleep. Danitz kept an eye on Gehrman’s arm, taking charge of the wound’s upkeep, changing the dressings and handing Gehrman the apothecary’s medicine when it was time. 

They kept their bounty hunting light while the arm healed. Several days later, Danitz insisted on returning to the doctor to check the healing progress. Between the Doctor and the Apothecary, the wound was mostly healed within the week. 

Once Gehrman was back in perfect form, he celebrated with a relentless hunt. By the end of the afternoon, he’d had Danitz arrange to cash in three different bounties. 

‘Dogshit! Is he trying to prove something?’ Danitz grumbled inwardly, trailing silently behind Gehrman as they tracked yet another walking sack of gold pounds. 

Gehrman was his typical public self, cold and distant, orders blunt. 

But Danitz had a sneaking suspicion. Night after night, Gehrman had curled up against his side, skin pressed to skin, clinging to Danitz in his sleep. He hadn’t asked him for sex again. Hadn’t said ‘please’ after he’d been summarily rejected on the grounds of his wound. 

Now, as they approached the suspected den of yet another bounty, Danitz found himself wondering. The question burning in his mind felt almost blasphemous. ‘Is he trying to prove he’s fit enough to fuck now?’  

The thought alone was ridiculous. How self-aggrandizing. As if Gehrman Sparrow, the Gehrman Sparrow, would feel the need to prove himself to Danitz. Inconceivable. 

They bagged one more bounty together, despite Danitz’s distraction. 

‘There, that should be enough to prove I’m healed,’ Klein muttered silently as he and Danitz dropped off their last bounty for the day. 

---

Later, after dinner and the end of their day, the pair returned to their suite at the inn. Danitz busied himself putting their things away and tidying up for the night. It’d been a long day and he was looking forward to a hot soak and a good night’s rest with Gehrman using him as a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, perturbed at that thought. 

‘Don’t get used to it,’ he chided himself, before his thoughts were interrupted. 

“Please.” 

Danitz froze in place, staring at his hands and the gear he was putting away. Slowly he looked up. 

Gehrman was standing in the middle of the room, his back to Danitz. Head bowed. There was tension in his posture, arms straight down at his sides, hands balled into fists. 

The silence stretched. 

Watching him, Danitz recalled the soft way Gehrman had reminisced about his past. The secrets that slipped from drug loosed lips. The sadness, the loneliness. The forced smile when he faced the memories head on.

He’d seemed so gentle and kind, lips curved up, the corners of his eyes soft. He’d been a stranger that night. 

Or had he?

Closing his eyes, he remembered the night they broke the Demoness Coin’s curse. He thought of Gehrman, head bowed, hands clasped together. The soft way he spoke. The determination backing his choice. 

He knew Gehrman would never have given him his body if not for the outside factors. He doubted such a thought would have ever crossed the crazy adventurer’s mind. But once he’d made his choice and surrendered himself to Danitz’s experience, things had peeled away.

Layer after layer. Moment by moment. Gehrman had stripped himself down to his core and exposed a throbbing nerve. 

He was the loneliest man Danitz had ever met. 

Now, given the chance, given the choice, in perfect health and his right mind, he’d reached out to him once more.

‘Where’s that cold pride now?’ Danitz wondered, not a trace of mockery or provocation in his mind. He tilted his head back, chin lifting slightly as he let himself step once more into the role Gehrman wanted, needed, him to play. “Take off your clothes,” he said. 

Gehrman obeyed, movements smooth.

It was different from their first night. They’d already shared their bodies and then the bed. There was something a little less reserved as Gehrman stripped though it was still perfunctory, still devoid of any sensual nature. But that was just part of who he was, wasn’t it?

Maybe it would come with time. 

Danitz watched with half-lidded eyes, finally rising to strip his own clothes off until both men stood fully nude. He traced Gehrman’s back with his eyes, saw a trembling tension there. His Hunter’s gaze caught so much more.

The man was nervous, shaking with excitement. Their first time together, the tension had been dangerous. Two predators circling each other with a wary eye. Tension was still writ large in Gehrman’s form, but it was different now. It was like a spring coiled tight, as if the man might jump for joy if he weren’t restraining himself.

He could imagine the smile that would light Gehrman’s face. Something bright and bold and beautiful like his unrestrained laugh, like the smile that curved his lips when he was high. 

Danitz found himself wanting to be the cause of that smile. He approached Gehrman, slid his arms around him from behind and pressed his lips to the back of his neck. 

This wasn’t love. It wasn’t romance. It was kindness and solidarity, budding friendship and trust. The need to shine light in another’s darkness. 

Without another word spoken, he led Gehrman to the bed.