Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Sage was again startled from his dozing by some odd noise in the night. His tail flicked irritably as he re-lit the candle beside him for possibly the fiftieth time, adjusting his monocle to focus on the papers in front of him. They would not grade themselves, after all. Strangely enough, he still felt exhausted, even after he chastised himself for falling asleep again. He checked the time- 3:27 AM - and sighed. This was the second night in a row he hadn’t laid down and actually rested. Even though he was (supposedly) nocturnal, he was most productive during the day, and his eyes grew heavy by the time the sun was down. Despite being one of the most knowledgeable individuals currently alive, he still didn’t entirely understand his own biology. Truly ironic…

“Sage.”

Poor Sage of Truth, scared out of his wits for the second time tonight. This time by a low voice and a cold hand on his shoulder, which belonged to a tall, dark shape with glinting eyes. Oh, how silly of him, he knew who it was: his dearest Truthless Recluse! He sighed shakily in relief, feeling the fur on his back lower again, and placed one hand on the Recluse’s, who leaned closer as if to see his face clearly. The Sage took it as an opportunity to kiss his husband’s cheek, and was met with a small smile.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I had to mark some tests, I’ll be done soon-”

The Sage was hardly finished speaking before the Recluse blew out the candle and dragged him away from his desk. Caught off guard, he didn’t react for a second, then struggled halfheartedly, somewhat delirious from his lack of sleep and only thinking of how he would disappoint his students by not correcting their exams.

“Calm yourself, bluebird. They’ll still be there tomorrow.”

The Recluse’s gentle voice reminded him, switching to a bridal carry instead of holding him around his midsection once he relaxed a bit.

“But-”

“No, you’re taking a break. Your students will live.”

He didn’t object further as his husband walked him through the Academy’s abandoned gates and started their course home, still holding him. If there was one thing the Sage knew about the Recluse, it was that the silly old bird was awfully stubborn, and would be quite hard to persuade otherwise once he was set on something. It was part of the reason the Sage had first taken an interest in him; his unusually strong will that occasionally crumbled in record time when it came to the scholar. He felt his eyes drooping again, and leaned his head on the Recluse's chest, soothed by the routinely rise and fall of his breathing. His husband leaned down slightly to place a soft kiss on his forehead, silently convincing him to let his eyes flutter shut.

…

It was one of those moments when the Recluse truly lamented the unreliability of his staff. He so dearly wished he could see the Sage’s sleeping form curled up against him, make out all the details. But, at the very least, he was graced with other sensations: the soft purring, his bodily warmth, the scent of blueberries that always clouded the air around him. The Recluse just continued running his fingers through his husband’s hair, hoping to keep him asleep until the sun rose, scratching behind his ears every now and then if he looked close to waking up. He himself had long since given up on sleeping, content to keep his husband company for the night. Although, perhaps it was hypocritical, to insist the Sage sleep while the Recluse stayed up. Maybe he would try to sleep, just for the sake of the teacher in his arms. His Sage would be upset to wake up and find him not asleep. Wrapping his good wing around them both, he let his mangled one stay underneath his husband to cushion him, cursing slightly at the pins and needles, and closed his eyes.

…

The Sage’s eyes cracked open to faint light. If his estimations were correct, it was about sunrise, which is when he usually got up to prepare for hosting his lessons. If it weren’t for the fact that he was ensnared in wings and cold arms. He smiled sleepily, rolling over to drape an arm over the Recluse, still peacefully asleep. A quiet, rumbling purr started up as he tucked his head into his husband’s neck, pressing little kisses to the soft skin. But alas- he couldn’t stay in bed at his beloved’s side forever. The Sage disentangled himself from soft feathers, kissing his sleeping hermit’s forehead as he stood up. Now, the first step in his daily routine - breakfast. Always the same: two eggs, scrambled, with a piece of buttered bread. It may be simple, but it was what worked for him. And an extra slice of bread for the Recluse, for when he blearily wandered into the kitchen and hugged him from behind with a tired mumble. He liked to take a bit of time for this step; for he appreciated a calm start to the day. An utterly enthralling book before him, he ate in relative quiet for a while, sometimes providing commentary out loud for the audience in his mind, until the Recluse slowly emerged from their bedroom. He took uneven steps, wearing a large shirt of the Sage’s, wings tucked under it, and sat down at the chair next to the scholar.

“Good mornin’, bluebird…”

Resting his head on one arm, the Recluse reached out his other hand to search for the Sage, eventually landing on his forearm. From there, he tugged on his sleeve until his hand was placed on the hermit’s head.

“Did you sleep well, love?”

The Sage smiled affectionately, carding his fingers through his husband’s hair with a soft chuckle at the way he relaxed immediately.

“Mm-hmm…”

The Recluse yawned, shuffling in his seat to be a bit closer to his lover.

“Are you still tired? You can go back to bed, if you want. I’ll wake you up when I’m leaving.”

With a thankful nod, the hermit stood only to take the piece of bread left out for him, and sat down again in the Sage’s lap, to his surprise.

“Thanks, but- *yawn* I’ll go later.”

The Sage hummed in understanding, and kept reading as the Recluse leaned against his chest. Eventually, they finished their respective meals and went on with their morning rituals. While the Sage combed his unruly hair, the Recluse caringly preened his own wings. While the Recluse helped organise countless loose papers and notebooks, the Sage went over his pre-determined lines for today’s lecture and generic conversation with him. While the Sage tidied up his uniform, the Recluse tended to their garden. Finally, the professor kissed his husband goodbye, hurrying to the town square, to another day of preaching the truth to eager students.