Work Text:
A certain someone’s lips were something that he, the Gatekeeper, missed the most. Not just its texture against his skin, nor its reddish color contrasting his pale shell. His words, he missed his sweet words that could make him do anything that he desired without question.
He believed that his words alone were the only thing that kept him grounded to the earth, giving him reason to continue doing what he was doing, giving him something that he could put his care into. Godfather’s words and actions always have meanings, and they keep echoing within Gatekeeper’s soul, his whole being.
That said, calendars are never something important to Gatekeeper before. It is just a bunch of numbers repeating itself. It’s just a week chasing its tail of days. It’s nothing special, it’s nothing particular. Though that certain someone did put a mark on a couple of the numbers.
Three marks he had left in Gatekeeper’s calendars that are set to repeat every year: October 27th, November 5th, and December 8th; Nagisa’s, Godfather’s, and his birthday. Don’t get him wrong, Gatekeeper could care less of when he is born. But December 8th was a date that Godfather bestowed on him, and thus they make it a day when Gatekeeper was born to serve Godfather until the end of his time.
“It is the day when I was born.”
Every year, it was more of a reminder of own self rather than something that needed to be celebrated. While Godfather, as an idol himself, will inevitably have his birthday celebrated by his fans, he was never a person who would like to make a fuss over it once he touched his private abode. It is never necessary for them to grandly celebrate it once Godfather returns to where Gatekeeper and Priest are. It was not until Apostle that they started to at least pray and bless each other’s presence with praises from their mouth to the other. It was not until Apostle that they started to annually “celebrate” their birthdays.
“Everything’s changed since Apostle.”
“––Did you say something, Monban?” The man asks, running his bare fingers down Gatekeeper’s shoulder.
“... No, nothing, sir,” Gatekeeper responded, burying more of his face onto the pillow that he hugged.
“Are you thinking about Shito again?”
“... Shouldn’t that question be directed to you, not me, sir?”
Gatekeeper’s response baited a chuckle from the older man. His hand now moves up to slip his fingers in between Gatekeeper’s short locks. His hand is so smooth, as someone who never really does any harsh work on his own… or maybe it’s the gloves that he always wears regardless of location or time. It makes it special for whenever he took them off, just to touch Gatekeeper directly, skin to skin.
“I always think about him. But you don’t need to think that our little play was merely because I can’t have him to myself.”
The younger one knows that that is just how Godfather sees him, no matter what he says to him as a sugarcoat over the actual truth. An escapism, a venting place, a carving place for him to put his knife onto and write down his woes in silence… not that Gatekeeper is complaining. He knows he has the selfishness to want more of Godfather, but beggars cannot be choosers.
It is better than not being seen at all.
“... My apologies for brooding on your birthday, my lord,” Gatekeeper sighs against the pillow, repelling his warm breath towards his already warm face. “You should enjoy it and not think about me.”
Another chuckle coming from Godfather. Gatekeeper starts to think that maybe he just finds him funny. “Then praise me more rather than overthink what I’m thinking, Monban,” He says with another kiss that is followed by trails of kissing going down to his nape. “Our annual ritual.”
Short breaths escaped Gatekeeper’s mouth, his brows were knitted upwards from the pressure that he received. Delicate hands run through his scarred back, which is damp from how warm everything has become. Music starts playing and echoes within the room, with him as the instrument.
“... My lord…”
Even a call of his title was counted as praise. Godfather was surprisingly quite lenient towards his second favorite.
“Yes, Monban… I’m listening.”
Every second was like a confession. Each syllable that Gatekeeper utters, is accompanied by a voice that he won’t ever let anyone else hear. It was only for Godfather. It was only for his Lord. And with every single breath that Gatekeeper whispered out, Godfather is always there to respond with equally sweet nothings. Giving him more with each word.
“...My life is yours… and will always be, even after the end of time…”
That was the praise and confession that he always repeated every year without fail. Even after his beloved could never hear him say that again, even after his beloved is too far away to see him kneeling in front of his last resting place.
This year was cold. The coldest autumn if Gatekeeper had to say it out loud. The only thing that he would complain about is how his hair would get messy with how strong the wind is grazing his hair. As if someone is ruffling it every time he visits Godfather’s grave.
“I could only hope you won’t mind that I keep visiting you so early in the morning, my Lord… as Nagisa-sama would always visit you in the evening… I don’t want him to know about my little conversation,” Gatekeeper confesses as he stares at his watch pointing at six. Despite that, Gatekeeper still leaves a Queen of the Night flower that is yet to bloom in front of his grave, for when Nagisa comes, it will bloom into its full.
Gatekeeper gives himself a little more time each year, to retell about what Godfather had missed as if giving an annual report to his lord with a little bit of praise here and there as well.
“From time to time, I start to appreciate life once again. To see Nagisa-sama grow to be more like you, and to see your bastard great-grandson have your face as well. Both of them combined are a perfect copy of you, my lord, and I will do my best to devote myself to them as well. As they are you, that is still in this world.”
“... To believe that you are still here with me even after death. And I won’t fail again, this time.”
"And with each year passing, I can feel that I'm getting closer to you."
With a prayer said, Gatekeeper stands on his two feet once again. A new mark was added to his plain calendar since the last time he visited, on the 14th of November.