Archive of Our Own

“I wish I wasn’t so useless.”

It’s said so quietly, Dew almost doesn’t hear it. Swiss has his face buried in Dew’s back, arms wrapped tightly around the fire ghoul’s waist as they lie in bed together. Positioned so they can soak up the last of the afternoon sun as it shines through the window.

“What? Who told you that?”

Dew waits for him to say more but is only met with silence. He tries to nudge Swiss back so he can look the multi ghoul in the face but he only tightens his grip.

“You’re not useless.”

Swiss mutters something but it’s lost in the fabric of Dew’s shirt.

“Swiss. Swiss, look at me.” Dew wriggles around to face the multi ghoul and grabs his face with both hands before he can bury his face in Dew’s warm chest. He looks miserable. He had been fine an hour ago, when Dew had pulled him away from the common room and onto his bed. Or, so Dew had thought.

“Tell me who told you that you were useless so I can beat the shit out of them,” Dew says, running thumbs over Swiss’ cheekbones. He leans into the warm touch and just shakes his head.

Dew doesn’t know what to do. He’s never seen Swiss look so defeated. “You’re not useless,” he repeats.

Swiss looks away. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Dew frowns, leaning his forehead in against Swiss’ and bumping horns affectionately. “What do you mean? Talk to me, Swiss.”

Swiss sighs, maybe frustrated. “You have a proper element. Good magic. You play guitar so well, so beautifully. You’ve mastered it.”

Dew blushes a little at the praise but shoves it to the back of his mind. “What’s that got to do with you?”

Swiss sighs again, definitely frustrated. “I’m nothing like that.”

Dew stares in silence, brain running at a million miles an hour to try and work out what to say, what to do. How to make Swiss feel better. He’s shit at stuff like this. Swiss keeps talking, voice breaking.

“I don’t do anything unique or special. Backing vocals and tambourine, the ghoulettes do that and do it a hell of a lot better than I do. And half the fucking band can play acoustic guitar. I don’t even have a singular element, my magic is so weak compared to everyone else. What’s the point in me even being here?”

Swiss is looking Dew in the eyes now, crying. Dew pulls him into a tight hug and Swiss hugs him back, sobbing into his shoulder. Dew rubs circles into the multi ghoul’s back, biting his lip as he wracks his brains. He feels awful that he’s who Swiss has come to with this, and can’t even get the words to help.

“I don’t think you’re useless.”

It must be the wrong thing to say because Swiss sobs harder, fists balled in the back of Dew’s shirt. Dew starts talking again, desperately searching around for anything that will help.

“You hold us all together, Swiss. Papa would need to summon at least three ghouls to ever try to do all the jobs that you do, on stage and around the abbey. I don’t know how you can focus on so many things. All I need to do is play my guitar and that’s it. Every time I look at you on stage you’re doing something different. It’s incredible.  You make all of us stronger. My fire on its own is fine, but with your magic combined we could burn down the whole abbey. The world, if we wanted to.”

There’s a moment of quiet and Swiss has almost stopped crying.

“And don’t tell the ghoulettes this because they’ll rip me apart, but you sound a million times better than them and Papa wouldn’t sound as good as he does if he didn’t have you.”

Swiss laughs a little at that last line. “They would rip you apart.”

“And enjoy it, too,” Dew muttered, smiling at Swiss as he lifted his head. He rolled over onto his back, pulling Swiss to lay on his chest and entwining his tail with the other ghoul’s.

Swiss settles and there’s silence for a long moment aside from the occasional sniffle from Swiss. Eventually the multi ghoul says a simple, “Thanks, Dew.”

Dew leans down to kiss his temple and places one warm hand on his back, the other at the nape of his neck, holding Swiss to him. They lay there together as the sun sets and the moon rises, casting them in a pale glow. Eventually Swiss falls asleep. Dew presses one last kiss in his hair before drifting off himself, never letting go of his precious, treasured, talented multi ghoul.

When he wakes up the next morning, it’s to Swiss leaning over him. Mischief is in his eyes. There doesn't seem to be any trace of whatever thoughts had plagued him the night before. Dew grins and yawns, showing sharp teeth. “Good morning.”

“Mooooorning,” Swiss draws the word out and then drops his weight onto Dew, laughing as Dew groans and says, “Feeling better, are we?”

Swiss just hums and buries his face in Dew’s neck, kissing and mouthing at the parts he can reach. Dew smiles at the ceiling before using all his strength to flip them both over, effectively pinning Swiss beneath him.

“Hey!” The multi ghoul complains, wriggling. Dew leans over him, hair falling in a curtain over one shoulder.

“I’ve been thinking,” the fire ghoul starts. “That you should let me show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Swiss stops moving, a smile slowly crossing his face as he raises a hand to run it through Dew’s golden hair. “Oh yeah?”

Dew smirks. “I want to hear you singing.”

Swiss’ hands fly to rest on Dew’s thighs, suddenly breathing faster than he’d like to admit. “You’d better make me sing, then.”

The fire ghoul flashes sharp teeth. “Let’s show the others who the best singer in the band really is.”