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They stood along the rooftops, the moon nothing more than a silver sliver floating in the indigo sea above their heads—without the full surface reflecting brightly, the stars were more than just pinpricks through the velvety atmosphere that night. If one knew where to look, it was even possible to see faint glimmers of distant galaxies. Whether it was the beauty of the cosmos, the palatable weather, or something else entirely was anyone’s guess—whatever the cause had been, Vanitas and Noé were perched on the rooftop, and not a word passed either man’s lips.
Noé’s eyes were downcast, fidgeting with the sleeves of his night shirt as he sat several feet away from Vanitas. His body still ached from the events of the amusement park, his body refusing to forget the strain it underwent during that time. He shivered at the memories.
“You finally cold enough to leave me alone?”
He turned, eyeing Vanitas languidly. “I’m not cold,” he said, but the words failed to convince even himself. “What surprises me is that you’re not.”
Vanitas scoffed. “I’m not some delicate child,” he said, pressing his face against his knees as he sat with his legs curled against his chest. He gazed forward, but his eyes didn’t focus on the view before him; instead, all he could think about was Noé’s gaze, and how it was directed at him with little attempt to mask it.
A moment passed before Vanitas flicked his gaze towards Noé, catching him in the act of staring at him. His brows creased. “What the hell are you looking at?” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his knees.
Noé looked away. “Ah, excuse me.” He fidgeted, and Vanitas cocked a brow at him.
“What’s your problem?”
“Your eyes are captivating.”
“Huh?!” Why on earth would he say something like that so suddenly?
Noé shrugged, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “What I mean is that they’re beautiful. I couldn’t look away, so, excuse me.”
“My eyes...?”
The thought had never crossed his mind before, certainly never with Noé’s voice attached. His fingers rose to his cheek, grazing over dark lashes absently as the words prodded his psyche. Were they actually beautiful? And why did it matter? To Vanitas, the electric blue hue of his irises only reminded him of his time at Dr. Moreau’s lab, back before they changed to his current color, back when they were shallow disembodied pools of indigo; beyond that, they served as physical evidence of his kinship with the Vampire of the Blue Moon without having to expose his right arm or reveal his grimoire. How could that possibly be beautiful?
Noé chuckled at his side, as if listening to his internal monologue. “It’s not like I find you any less distasteful, Vanitas,” he reassured, a large smile plastering itself over his nutmeg countenance, but the pull of his lips never reached his eyes; he almost seemed to be squeezing them tightly shut, brows bunching in a movement that had nothing to do with his grin. Vanitas eyed him carefully and thought that in this moment he appeared more melancholic than teasing. “Forgive me, I know it’s not my place to comment on your appearance.”
He was right, it wasn’t—but then why did his words occupy such a large portion of Vanitas’ mind?
“Regardless,” Noé continued, the strained smile dripping as he gazed up at the clear sky, stars glittering overheard. This was an expression Vanitas thought he’d seen before—or perhaps he’d merely seen a ghost of it?—that evening at the bell tower. He smiled like this on that day, but tonight was different. The smug undertones of his previous iteration of this expression had vanished, replaced instead with a deep longing. In a word, it was somber, but Vanitas couldn’t tell why.
“I wanted to tell you.” Shifting to look at the man, Noé’s feature softened as his violet eyes landed once more on Vanitas’ form. “I was always enamored by the Blue Moon, and now, looking into your eyes, I see the same beauty. It’s arbitrary, I know, but I wanted you to know.
Vanitas’ heart hammered against his ribs, despite how he may have tried to subdue the commotion in his arteries. Why was Noé getting so sentimental at a time like this?
Noé sighed. “To be honest, ever since the events at the amusement park, I...” He trailed, and Vanitas perked to attention.
“Well? Out with it,” he said, not sure how much more of this he could take.
The events of that night were very much an open wound that ached tenderly, even after a month between this moment and that. The pain was palpable, and Vanitas doubted his ability to stomach it.
Clenching his fists beside him on the roof’s surface, Noé averted his eyes and continued. “That night, I saw someone pretending to be you. I know that wasn’t you, though it may have been a deeply repressed facet of your person—that doesn’t make it the same man sitting before me. And, you saw a version of me that I desperately wish to forget...” He pursed his lips tightly, images of his reflection scrawled across a jagged mirror like a nightmare flashed before his mind’s eye.
“How do you know it wasn’t me?”
“Well, it’s not that it wasn’t you per se...”
“Huh? That’s not what you just said.”
“You interrupted my train of thought, of course I’m floundering!” Noé took a deep breath. “What I mean to say is that I knew you were still in there, no matter how the person who rose to the surface tried to kill me. I refused to give up on you, and I meant it when I told you that I will never set you ‘free,’ no matter what that might mean.”
Though he wanted to be angry, to be frustrated that Noé was wasting his time with idle talk, he couldn’t bring himself to feel that way towards the vampire. “And how do you know?” he muttered, his voice quieter than intended. “How did you know that I was still in there, if that wasn’t even me at all?”
Noé smiled, the expression truly reaching his lashes this time. “Your eyes.”
Vanitas froze, absolutely flummoxed by the declaration.
“I’ve seen it before, someone genuinely changing deep in their heart and becoming a different person, for better or for worse.” That same sadness filled his eyes. “And the first thing to change, every time, is their eyes. But yours didn’t. You were still in there, Vanitas. I knew I could still save you.”
And then he was done, and a silence stretched between the two for more than a few heartbeats. The breeze ruffled their hair as they sat motionlessly against the shingles, distant murmurs of the city below filling the peripheral of their soundscape. Noé stood, as though he was about to head inside for the night.
“Wait.”
Noé turned before Vanitas could stop the words from tumbling over his lips. With the attention fully on himself now, he shifted his face from view as much as he could. “It’s not arbitrary,” was all he said.
Feeling a presence beside him, Vanitas glanced over and saw as Noé stretched a hand out towards the man. He said nothing, instead looking into his eyes with a firmness as he kept his hand suspended between them. Vanitas accepted his offer, allowing himself to be lifted to his feet as Noé lead them precariously into their shared living quarters through the window.
Once they were inside, Noé flopped over onto his own bed. “I’m glad it meant something to you, Vanitas,” Noé said, shuffling to get comfortable under his covers.
Vanitas merely watched him, perplexed that he brought him inside just to fall asleep immediately. Was there something he was missing?
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t let you sleep on the roof tonight,” Noé admitted, answering his unasked question without a second thought. He turned, looking up at Vanitas. If it hadn’t been so dark in the room, he would have sworn that Noé was flustered.
“Can I ask you something?”
Vanitas hummed.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
He took a step back, the movement a mere reflex as he gaped at the vampire, though he said nothing. Vanitas swallowed hard against his throat. “Why?”
Noé curled deeper into himself, peeling his eyes from the man to focus on his hands against his chest. “...It’s embarrassing, but...I can’t sleep alone. I just can’t. Please, just once and I’ll never bother you about it again.”
The pleading in his voice only made Vanitas’ heart ache in his chest. He was still weary from the events that were no doubt the cause of Noé’s restlessness, and yet, the thought of being around the very man he had tried to kill... It almost seemed to be a salve that could ease their pain, however oxymoronic.
He shirked off his coat, removing his clock-work grimoire along with it and tossing them onto his bed. Once he’d kicked his shoes off as well and there was nothing else he had to take off, he climbed into bed alongside Noé.
The once bloodied and desperate vampire of the amusement park—the one who had been tormented by Misha and had almost been forced to watch his dear friend perish before his eyes—was no more than a gentle weight at his side, his warm body radiating heat to the perpetually chilled man.
Without a second thought, Noé wrapped his arms around Vanitas and hugged him against his chest, resting his chin on top of his hair as he squeezed him tightly. Though he kept still, Vanitas gasped at the sudden change, eyes wide as his cheek pressed into Noé’s firm chest. Under his touch, Vanitas felt as Noé’s body began to quiver, his jaw tightening against his scalp as his fingers gripped tightly at his shirt.
Resigning himself to the vulnerability and potential humiliation, Vanitas pulled off his gloves and tossed them haphazardly over his shoulder and onto the floor before clasping tightly onto Noé’s shoulder. He pursed his lips tightly as Noé sucked in a shaky breath before collapsing.
Holding onto Vanitas like a lifeline, Noé shuddered as sobs began to trickle out of his throat and into the space around them. His hand clasped tightly against the back of Vanitas’ head, and his fingers laced through his thick locks as he pulled him as close as possible. Vanitas readjusted in his embrace as he snaked an arm under the dip of Noé’s waist, still clutching his shoulder all the while.
“I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry,” Noé choked, hot tears streaming down his cheeks in thick currents.
Though he remained silent as Noé hugged him tightly against his chest, Vanitas couldn’t help being shocked by his behavior. He’d never seen him this... this broken before. His fingers curled deeper against the vampire’s clothes—he hated it, but not for the reasons he thought he would. Noé’s despondency pained Vanitas in a way he could not describe. Though it was not his pain, a voice in his head told him that he wanted to help Noé bear it. He wanted to help him, not because he was his partner or roommate or friend, but because deep down he cared very deeply for Noé as someone who was much more than those arbitrary titles implied.
“It’s okay.” Vanitas mumbled into his chest barely loud enough for him to hear, wanting him to know it but not able to say it properly. Noé squeezed him even tighter, hiccupping into his hair as body quaked.
“It’s not.” He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with the movement as he fought for air. “I just want to protect the ones I love, but I can’t even do that right,” he whispered.
Clenching his jaw, Vanitas moved to press his open palms against Noé’s chest, applying enough pressure for him to release his grip slightly. He scooted closer to the head of the bed, looking into Noé’s face instead of his torso. The tears were still flowing, and his eyes were getting puffy as his lips trembled; the muscle over his chin was pulled taught as he fought against the cries stuck in his throat. Bringing his hands up, Vanitas placed his palms on either side of Noé’s face. He gingerly swiped away the tears as they pooled under his thumbs, and Noé squeaked softly under his touch as his cheeks flushed.
“You are stronger than you think, Noé,” Vanitas said, his voice clear despite the aching in his heart. “You did everything you could that night.” Just as the words began to flow did they catch behind his teeth. What was he saying? In the pause that followed, Noé moved to cup Vanitas’ hand in his own, melting into the tender affection as his eyes fluttered shut. The tears continued to fall and his body still shook, but Vanitas was obviously doing something right.
Noé choked and his brows furrowed. “Would you still rather I set you ‘free’? Do you want me to leave? Would that truly be better for you...?”
His heart jumped into his throat. “Never.”
Opening his eyes once more, Noé gazed at him in the darkness with the same troubled expression painted across his features. “Vanitas...”
“Please, Noé... Don’t ever set me free.”
His mind screamed at him to stop, that he was only going to get himself hurt, that Noé would leave in the end like everyone did if he didn’t leave first. However, no matter how much his mind tried to scare him away from Noé’s embrace, there was no denying that his heart felt safe in his arms. He couldn’t fight it anymore.
With his pale, slender fingers still cupped around Noé’s nutmeg visage, he pulled him close enough to plant a chaste kiss on his forehead. His snowy hair tickled against his cheek and nose, and he could feel Noé take a deep breath at his brazen display. Noé’s fingers clasped onto Vanitas’ tightly as he pulled back enough to press their foreheads together.
“You mean so much to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side.”
As the words escaped his lips and his breath warmed the space between them, Noé’s expression pulled sharply as a wave of sobs overtook him. His shoulders shook with each troublesome inhale as he shifted into the man, moving to bury his face in the crook of Vanitas’ neck as fresh tears dampened his cheeks once more.
Despite his mind urging him, begging him to push Noé off him, to not let him anywhere near the tender flesh of his neck where his arteries pulsed beneath ghostly skin, but he refused. Noé would never betray his trust and drink from him without permission, he would never peer into his deeply repressed memories to satiate some curiosity over his past. Vanitas knew he was safe in his arms, and that night at the amusement park only solidified that truth further.
Noé embraced him once more, his entire body surrounding the smaller man’s as he cocooned him in warmth. The quivering of his muscles slowed as Vanitas caressed his fingers over his back idly, the pads of his fingers tracing the man’s body beneath him. As his sobs began to subside and sleep pulled at his weary bones, Vanitas continued with his wordless declaration of solidarity as his hand rubbed over his back and fingers combed through his hair. Noé’s once tense muscles loosened with each exhale as he melted into Vanitas’ soothing embrace.
The emotions they felt for each other, painted in red with each touch of their fingertips, were simply too much to ignore anymore. As they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, Vanitas only hoped that Noé was as content as he felt in that moment; and Noé, nuzzling deeper into the man’s grip, hoped Vanitas would still be with him when the morning sun rose.