Archive of Our Own

“Hollyberry, you really didn’t have to–” 

Pure Vanilla’s nervous voice was immediately cut off as the other ancient effortlessly unloaded the last large crate from a wooden wagon, the contents — bottles — clanged together much too loudly. 

“Nonsense, my friend! I had these exported straight from the Hollyberry Kingdom, consider it my final parting gift.” Hollyberry laughed, placing her hands firmly on her hips. 

Shadow Milk rested on a windowsill, not too far away, it was high up on the wall giving him a perfect view of the scene that played out in the bright foyer of the Vanilla castle. 

His arms cushioned the back of his head, and his ankle was propped up on one knee. If spotted, he looked like he was simply napping to any outsider. 

He playfully stuck out his forked tongue to a servant dusting a shelf who was, conspicuously, looking at him out of the corner of their eye. They gulped nervously before hastily diverting their attention to some other piece of furniture across the room. 

“Besides, it would do you good to loosen up sometimes.” Hollyberry’s booming voice redirected Shadow Milk’s attention back to the commotion below him. 

He watched as Pure Vanilla silently fretted, the cookie’s hands wringing together anxiously. 

Hollyberry had recently shown up in an impromptu visit to the Vanilla Kingdom, which was surprisingly uneventful. He was disappointed, really — Witches forbid anything interesting happened in the castle.

She was amiable with Shadow Milk and she greeted him whenever he would materialise by the former king’s side. She most likely thought all the Beasts were as inept as Eternal Sugar, the thought brought a scowl to his face. 

She hadn’t been there for long, only a few days, and Shadow Milk supposed he couldn’t say he hated absolutely everything about her, as he did with the other pesky ancients. 

“Thank you, Hollyberry.” Pure Vanilla finally sighed. 

“That’s more like it.” The other ancient good-naturedly patted his back, naturally much too forceful for Pure Vanilla who stumbled forward, his eyes opened for a second of surprise as he made an ack noise. 

Shadow Milk couldn’t help the smirk that emerged on his face. 

“You. Beast.” Hollyberry unexpectedly turned and pointed up at him.

He snarled at her in return.

“Take good care of this old man, Witches know he needs it.” 

Shadow Milk huffed, shifting slightly, he brought his hand up to inspect his claws, feigning indifference. 

“No promises.” 

She, rudely, didn’t dignify him with a response as she turned her back to the jester once more and squeezed Pure Vanilla tightly in a hug, easily lifting him off the floor for a moment. After a split second of shock Pure Vanilla returned the embrace, wrapping his arms back around Hollyberry. 

“Goodbye, I’ll miss you dearly.” He smiled.

“Don’t be a stranger, farewell Pure Vanilla.” She replied warmly. 

Shadow Milk wished he had looked away; it lasted much longer than any normal hug should have. He watched how the touch seemed much too natural for Pure Vanilla as he melted into the other’s hold. 

The beast finally willed himself to turn his head to look over his shoulder as they exchanged a few more murmured pleasantries. A sneer formed on his lips as he crossed his arms. 

After she had finally left the image sourly lingered in his mind, how easily Pure Vanilla had allowed the hug and the instinctive reciprocation. Shadow Milk had found himself paying much more attention to these things, more than he had before. 

With Pure Vanilla’s extremely poor sight it made sense that he would see the world through touch. He would frequently brush his fingers across the walls of hallways or glide them across nearby tables and surfaces. This trait extended to people, he’d clasp his hands when talking with town shopkeepers, walk arm in arm with various companions and thank people with a light touch on their shoulders. 

Each touch lingered, far too long with any cookie. Shadow Milk would zero in on how his hand would keep contact with others. He noticed far more than he’d ever want to admit, the way he’d gently, casually, take the arms of other cookies in conversation, it was as if he was placing a small bit of trust in them to guide him around while they walked. 

But for some reason Pure Vanilla refused to even graze Shadow Milk. It wasn’t subtle, he deliberately moved around him to avoid any brush of skin. Shadow Milk, Of course — the uncaring and solitary beast that he is, simply doesn’t care. What he doesn’t like is not understanding why. 

He used to think it was simply because they were new, but Pure Vanilla’s habit extended to absolute strangers. It made zero sense. Each little bit of contact witnessed instantly soured Shadow Milk’s mood, he had a mental tally adding to it each time he noticed, which was far too frequent.

Pure Vanilla would insist on being around him! The pestering gnat would clear his schedule to spend time with him and then refuse to even brush shoulders. What was wrong? What was wrong with him?

After a few days Shadow Milk formulated a simple plan. Maybe not the smartest, but it would at least solve the ongoing debate in his mind. 

It was a glaringly bright morning within the Vanilla Kingdom. At this time Shadow Milk would usually still be asleep, Pure Vanilla on the other hand, always woke up much too early. Although this morning he needed time to make himself look as terrible as possible, which was hard, as he was incapable of looking terrible. 

He quickly melted into the shadows and darted across the hallways through the sparse shadows beneath the flowing curtains. He slipped under the door and there Pure Vanilla was. The former king was alone in the large hall, a large window was placed behind from where he was seated, brightening his golden hair with the beautiful morning glow. Shadow Milk’s heart jumped for some unknown reason. 

He shifted into the seat next to him before taking form. 

The chair creaked. 

“Ah! Shadow Milk? You’re up—“

Shadow Milk interrupted with a large groan, dropping his head in his hands. He was truly an amazing actor, he was even able to flawlessly perform a role that lightly hurt his ego. Beasts didn’t get sick. 

“What’s wrong?” Pure Vanilla questioned quietly, he had that careful lilt to his voice. It was comforting somehow. He placed his spoon on the plate and leaned in as soon as he noticed the other’s distress.

Shadow Milk concealed his smile. This was the plan. He had seen Pure Vanilla healing cookies, not that he paid that close attention, but he would always brush his fingers over the source of whatever ailment they had. He couldn’t avoid touching Shadow Milk this time.  

“I haven’t been able to sleep with this splitting headache, my magic doesn’t bode well with self healing so I haven’t been able to fix it.” He sighed. 

Pure Vanilla frowned. “You should’ve come to me earlier.”

“Be grateful that I’m coming to you now, not many cookies get the privilege of healing a beast.”

“I doubt many cookies have the ability to heal a beast. But of course, I’ll try.” 

Shadow Milk scoffed before dropping his head on the table to further the act, his hair splayed out across the surface. “You better.”

He heard the healer shift in his seat. “Alright, face me dear.” 

Shadow Milk smirked for a split second, unable to contain his excitement. Finally, he sat up sluggishly and glared at Pure Vanilla who was now facing him.

The healer looked nervous somehow, or at least hesitant. It was shown in the slight furrow of his brow and the almost unnoticeable chewing of the inside of his cheek. He paused, letting out a breath before finally lifting his hand.

This was it, maybe the avoidance of touch was all in Shadow Milk’s mind. His breath hitched. 

But then the hand stopped. It obscured his vision but was still inches away from the dough of his forehead. 

Shadow Milk’s breath paused, the air felt heavy. The room was quiet, even as the morning birds had stopped their incessant singing. Pure Vanilla’s hand tremored slightly in the air, barely there.

Was he hesitating? “Well, are you going to do anything?” 

Then he felt it. The soft presence of light magic, but no touch of skin. He felt dizzy for a moment and his thoughts blurred. 

And then it was over. Pure Vanilla pulled away and this time Shadow Milk felt the absence, the healer’s hands delicately folded back on his lap. He didn’t say anything, brewing in his silence. Pure Vanilla really did have a problem with him and he wished he hadn't noticed.

“That should be it, are you feeling better?” 

That was it. That was it? A whole plan crafted for nothing. Shadow Milk was treated like a mere patient, an afterthought, instead of the beast he was. Disappointment curled heavy in his stomach.

Shadow Milk's expression darkened as he scowled. “Your magic is clearly inefficient.”

He melted back into the shadows, the memory of the near-touch remained in his mind. 

— 

Shadow Milk had since decided his first plan was juvenile. A simple headache wouldn’t do it, probably no one ever came to the healer for something as simple as that. He needed something that Pure Vanilla wouldn’t be able to think about. He needed something spontaneous. 

Pure Vanilla had invited him to walk in his gardens. Shadow Milk more often than not rejected him, would rather daydream in the solitude of his room or teleport to his spire and check in on the lies his minions were spreading. But today, he decided to accept the offer. 

So here he was. Walking on foot on the uneven stone paths that weaved through the gardens. He floated up slightly and dragged the very tips of his shoes across the stone. Shadow Milk moved slowly to match Pure Vanilla’s pace, it was so boring, and yet the former king seemed to happily take in the surrounding area with his staff. 

It was a picturesque day, various flowers and plants bloomed around them as they walked on uneven rocks. Large willow trees provided shade every now and then. 

 Shadow Milk was just hoping that Pure Vanilla wasn’t taking him to go see the dreaded cream sheep he kept around. They would always try to chew on his sleeves. 

Little sprouts of various grasses and plants split the rocks. How could the place look so messy and unorganised even though Pure Vanilla spent practically everyday here? He didn’t hesitate to voice his thoughts. 

“This place is such a mess, do you not pull out the weeds?” Shadow Milk promptly crushed a small yellow dandelion flower with the heel of his shoe. 

Pure Vanilla frowned, “I like when the plants bloom in unexpected places, it’s not fair to destroy life that wishes to grow.” He said softly. “Besides, I find dandelions pretty.” 

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes. “Of course you do… but surely the uneven ground makes it hard to get around.” He spoke while scanning the area. Then, Shadow Milk spotted it, a small arch shaped root. Inconspicuous enough to be passed as unnoticeable and perfect to get a foot wedged in.

The former king hummed as a response.

With a small, subtle movement of his finger he moved it right in front of Pure Vanilla’s path. 

Sometimes the classics should be referred to. It was as simple as it was in stories. A character falls and the other must catch them. Of course, Shadow Milk would never do anything as embarrassing as falling, but he knows Pure Vanilla stumbles all the time. 

It was all according to plan, Pure Vanilla’s foot directly hit the root. He gasped and his eyes widened. It was sudden and quick, disrupting his slow walk as his balance shifted forward. He left little time for Pure Vanilla to react. Shadow Milk watched it happen in almost slow motion with thinly veiled delight. One of Pure Vanilla’s hands moved out, an attempt to soften the fall and his grip loosened on his staff. 

Shadow Milk swiftly and smoothly darts in front, outstretching an arm to prevent Pure Vanilla’s fall. 

A clunk, stone against wood, is heard as Pure Vanilla firmly plants his staff down on one of the rocks, it was barely a fall as he easily steadied himself once more. Shadow Milk probably looked dumb, his outstretched arm hovering uselessly in the air before he brought his hand back to his side and clenched his fists tightly. His claws dug into the skin of his palm. 

Pure Vanilla’s face reddened, embarrassment looked good on him. “Maybe I should get the pathways fixed up, I could’ve sworn that wasn’t there last time.”

Shadow Milk huffed, he crossed his arms and tried to keep the snarl off his face. “You really should. You’re already a clumsy cookie, Nilly.” He tried not to sound too bitter. It was so close to working. 

Pure vanilla turned his staff towards Shadow Milk, his hand lifted slightly, much too slowly, before returning to his side. 

Shadow Milk noticed that small movement, was it that he was scared of him? He felt a sharp sting of something. 

Pure Vanilla just laughed softly, oblivious. “I suppose I am.” 

—

Shadow Milk was sick and tired of his plans outright failing on him, and he hated to fail. It was a dreadful day. He hadn’t seen Pure Vanilla — well, he had but had quickly transported to his second realm. He wouldn’t say he was avoiding the other, he just wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. 

Shadow Milk had one last plan. The skies were murky, and dark. It was never that cold in the Vanilla Kingdom, and the weather never changed drastically given how high it was off the ground. But, with a little extra magic Shadow Milk was sure he could make it work.

In his days as Fount he experimented with magic big and small. A seemingly difficult one was the changing of the weather. It was a large spell with a, surprisingly, uncomplicated rune, and he was going to cast it on the kingdom.

None of them would notice, it was tiny compared to his past manipulations. 

It was going to be cold. Cold enough for Pure Vanilla to crave the closeness and warmth that Shadow Milk had to offer or whatnot. And if this didn’t work — well he didn’t know.

Even he could admit it was excessive, ridiculous really, and yet the thought of enduring the unspoken distance for much longer made his stomach twist. He replayed the former plans in his mind, replayed the harsh sting of rejection that came as a result. 

He had fought so hard not to feel the sinking loneliness he had before, turned against cookie-kind, his entire philosophy, to stop it. Of course, this was different, Pure Vanilla was different. He was something new, a companionship he had never experienced in his centuries on earthbread. 

So Shadow Milk sucked up his pride and once making sure no one saw him, floated out the castle window to get a good view of the kingdom. Those stuck up Vanillians would be able to handle it, they never had to deal with weather other than sunshine once in their life. Perhaps they’d even appreciate it. 

He subconsciously stuck his tongue out in focus, with waves of his staff he shifted the clouds in the shape of the rune and with a single flick of the wand the first drop of rain fell — right in the fountain placed in the middle of the town. Then hundreds followed, quickly it transformed into a full rainstorm, the temperature of the outside air shifting to prick at his dough.

He didn’t mean to make it that strong, it was only meant to shift the temperature colder. He supposed he was growing rusty, he’d never thought a small weather spell could be butchered by his own hands.  

Shadow Milk flew back in the castle, slipping back through the same window. His mouth pulled into a satisfactory smile, now he simply had to wait until the chill would reach every room of the castle.

…

After a couple of hours the sun lowered, leaving the darkness of the overcast sky. Maids frantically closed every window and lit the sporadic fireplaces in the castle. He had heard no word of Pure Vanilla just yet. 

Shadow Milk got up from his spot on a couch, yawned and stretched his arms out, ready to go find the old king. He melted into the new abundance of shadows that was more like it and set off.

After checking the dining hall, library and common room Shadow Milk realised he had completely forgotten Pure Vanilla’s bedroom. He slid under the door and he, unexpectedly, saw the other seated at his desk. Candles illuminated the Healer’s face, giving his dough, and, of course, his hair the golden glow it always had. The window rattled underneath the rain outside. It was surprisingly calm. On the desk there were stacks of letters piled at both sides, and currently, Pure Vanilla was lent over a nondescript one, running his fingers across the grooved surface. 

“Ya’ know people say that reading in the dark damages the eyesight.” Shadow Milk lamented, assembling his physical form once more. His feet left the ground as he swirled around in the air behind the seated man.

“Ah. I really ought to take better care of myself.” Pure Vanilla smiled, though his fingers kept moving. 

“That was my line, silly Vanilly.”  

The other hummed in acknowledgment. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you around.” 

“Resting, sleeping, spreading lies and deceit throughout earthbread. One of the three.” He shrugged. “The storm certainly disturbed me though. I’m sure your Vanillian’s were as shocked as I.” 

“Yes, quite. As you know we never have rain in the Vanilla kingdom, it took us all quite by surprise. Although, honestly, I quite like it.”

“Really? But it’s cold in here.” He lied easily.

The healer frowned and turned around, satisfyingly, placing his proper attention on Shadow Milk. “It shouldn’t be, I just—“

“I’m cold in here.” He interrupted 

“Oh. That’s no problem.” The chair carefully slid across the wooden floors, Pure Vanilla quickly strode across the room to his wardrobe. “What were you after? A sweater, a blanket, a robe?” He questioned, opening the overly grand double doors to his storage.

“A sweater will do.” Shadow Milk replied smoothly. 

Pure Vanilla scavenged through the racks, the hangers clinked against each other. Eventually he delicately leaned up to pull one off and threw it over his right arm. He then stepped over to Shadow Milk, still lazing midair.

“There you go. It was made from the wool of my cream sheep.” All he did was outstretch a hand, holding it out. 

And Shadow Milk— Shadow Milk didn’t know what he expected. He frankly felt a bit stupid, the heat rose in his face, colouring it purple. What was he thinking? That Pure Vanilla would personally put it on him? And…  and why would the beast want that? 

Pure Vanilla tilted his head slightly, arm still outstretched, and Shadow Milk realised he’d just been staring. He snatched the sweater out of the other's hands. It was soft. He looked up to see the others' long pale eyelashes. 

“I— you—“ He sputtered, holding the off-white wool tightly in his fists. 

His hair began to drip, attempting to return to the shadows. He suddenly felt much too exposed. 

As soon as Pure Vanilla opened his mouth Shadow Milk snapped his fingers. He teleported to his assigned room in the castle. It was dark and cold, the warmth of the other room instantly left him. The window shuddered, the noise filling up the small room as he now stood in the middle. 

Shadow Milk groaned loudly in frustration, bringing his hands up to run through his hair. To conjure a whole storm for that. He didn’t understand why Pure Vanilla refused to touch him and why he would even want it in the first place. 

He, as hard as possible, chucked the sweater across the room, willing it to disappear. It made a dull thump as it hit one of the walls. 

He stood and stared at it for a few minutes. A shiver ran up his body. 

It was very cold in the room. 

He, shamefully, made his way back to the sweater. He picked it up and shoved it over his head. It overwhelmingly smelled of vanilla, the clothing hung off his frame awkwardly, oversized. 

Slowly, with his back pressed to the wall, he lowered himself. He pressed his knees to his chest and buried his nose in the collar of the sweater. He would only keep it on until the cold passed, he thought distantly. 

…

Shadow Milk blinked his eyes open to complete darkness. At some point he must’ve fallen asleep.

He peered out the window, there was no more rain, just the stillness of the night sky. He got up and stretched. In the corner of his eye he caught it, a dull glow of light from underneath from his door. It was strange, very few cookies actually had rooms in the castle, besides Pure Vanilla of course, and if they did, they wouldn’t be awake in the midst of the night. 

It was most likely a servant who just left one of the lights on, but for some reason, Shadow Milk’s curiosity, and perhaps boredom, got the best of him. His door creaked open with a push of the hand. The light came from the end of the hallway, spilling under the large entrance doors of the dining hall. 

Shadow Milk melted into the shadows once more and trailed the light, he slid under the doors and took his physical form again. 

The chandelier to the hall was turned on, the warm yellow light illustrated the entire room. And there, Pure Vanilla sat slumped in one of the chairs. His head was flat down on the wooden table which was covered with different bottles. One of his arms dangled down following the pathway of his hair which flowed down serving to cover most of his body. The other hand was limply wrapped around one bottle. 

Hollyberry’s. 

Ha! Shadow Milk couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t wait to torment Pure Vanilla by bringing this up in the future. The war hero, proclaimed ancient, former king of the Vanilla Kingdom, passed out drunk. He let out a small snicker, trying not to be too loud. 

he gleefully levitated over, ready to flaunt right in the other’s face. 

“Nilly, I didn’t know you were a heavy drinker.” He laughed. “Or lightweight, how many did it take to get to this stage?” Shadow Milk was unable to keep the delight out of his voice.

Pure Vanilla replied with a deep groan.

“Hellooo? Earthbread to Nilly.” He floated head-height. 

Suddenly Pure Vanilla gasped and darted up, his hands, gripping much too hard on the table, came forward to push himself back, almost tipping himself over as the chair screeched against the floors. “What– Shadow Milk? What happened?” He asked, seemingly shaken. 

The healer’s hair was a mess, thrown messily over his face, one of the sides of his silken pyjamas had slipped down, exposing the dough of his shoulder. It was a good look. 

Shadow Milk laughed. “To think someone of your caliber would be caught drinking himself to sleep, oh! If only Black Sapphire was here to witness this.” He stopped to laugh some more, “How scandalous! What if a servant caught you?” He brought a finger up to his eye to wipe a non-existent tear away. 

Pure Vanilla huffed and ran a hand through his hair, fixing the strands covering his face. His face was tinted red, Shadow Milk was unsure if it was from embarrassment or the alcohol. “Very funny. You’re alright?” 

“Alright? I’ve never been better!” He giggled, his eyes trailed around the table – to the multiple bottles scattered around where Pure Vanilla was seated. 

“For your knowledge, I don’t usually drink. I really don’t know what I was thinking.” Pure Vanilla sighed, taking in a deep breath. 

“It’s fine Nilly, it’s normal to indulge sometimes. I can walk you to your room if you’d like, old man.” Shadow Milk really just wanted to see the other stumble over himself. 

Pure Vanilla frowned, he hunched over the table for a second and dragged his hands down his face. Shadow Milk almost felt a bit bad. 

“That would be… nice.” 

The healer slowly pushed himself up and staggered slightly. Shadow Milk snorted before turning around to make his way back to the doorway, feet lifted just off the ground. 

“Wait.” Pure Vanilla breathed. 

The jester raised an eyebrow and floated back over to him, he stopped in front of Pure Vanilla, high enough off the ground to be just taller than him. “Yes?” 

“The sweater, it looks… good on you.”

Oh. 

Shadow Milk forgot to take the blasted thing off. 

Then Pure Vanilla reached out. Time seemed to slow as his hands moved. But then Pure Vanilla’s hands stopped, as they always did — And awkwardly hovered over Shadow Milk’s lower arms, the intention clear enough that it couldn’t be ignored. 

Shadow Milk just stared down at the hands. He remained silent. They were so close and yet the lack of the touch was more apparent than ever. 

And then Pure Vanilla began to pull away, he coughed stiffly. “My apologies–”

Screw it. 

Shadow Milk covered Pure Vanilla’s hands with his own, cupping the back of them. His fingers curled around the others as he lowered himself to the ground. The simple touch felt electric, the Healer’s hands warm enough to heat up his whole body, quickly bringing a flush to his face. His mind went blank, he didn’t know something so normal could feel so alien. 

It made his skin crawl, goose bumps rose as a brisk shudder moved through his body at the contact. Pure Vanilla’s skin was smooth, perfect, like he knew it would be. 

“I’m not sure– I mean–” Pure Vanilla kept cutting himself off from whatever he was trying to say, stumbling over his words.

Shadow Milk wanted nothing more than to pull him closer

“Please.” He said, his voice came out a lot less confident and a lot more desperate than he wanted it to. 

“Oh. Yes, of course.” 

Shadow Milk let go of his hands as Pure Vanilla reached up to tightly grip his forearms. It seemed as if he was holding the jester to stabilise himself, it only worked to make Shadow Milk’s legs wobble. 

“I just–” Pure Vanilla bit his bottom lip, “I just wasn’t sure if this was allowed.” 

“Allowed? Obviously it’s allowed you stupid cookie.” Shadow Milk hissed and yet his words once again failed on him as his voice wavered slightly. It was so embarrassing, to lose the composure he fought so hard to build up with the smallest of touches. 

“I thought that maybe it would cross that line, I don’t know, I guess I am stupid.” Pure Vanilla seemed regretful, his eyebrows pinched. “I truly am sorry, Shadow Milk. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but even more so unhappy.”

“Well, it’s fine, is that permission enough? I don’t care.” 

Pure Vanilla’s hands moved, coming to cup Shadow Milk’s face. Shadow Milk, mortifyingly, leaned into the touch, much more than he wanted to. 

“Your dough is so soft.” Pure Vanilla whispered. 

Shadow Milk said nothing, he wanted to leave. Snap his fingers to never show his face again. And yet, his feet remained planted firmly on the ground.

“I’m sorry. I think I’m still a bit tipsy.” Pure Vanilla’s remaining hand joined the other, holding both sides of Shadow Milk’s face, his thumb moved slightly, brushing the beast’s jaw. 

“I don’t care.” Shadow Milk repeated, barely able to make the words out. To be left breathless was not common for him. He glanced up at Pure Vanilla whose mouth was slightly agape in what? Shock? 

After a very short few minutes Pure Vanilla’s hands left Shadow Milk’s face and rested at his waist. “You’re so beautiful, Shadow Milk.” He began to run his hands up and down the curve of his sides. 

The jester preened at the touch and wished once more he had taken the sweater off. 

“Can we go back to my room?” Pure Vanilla questioned quietly as his hands stilled. 

“Oh Nilly, how forward of you.” Shadow Milk gasped but, much too eagerly, reached at his hand to tug him forward anyway. The healer trailed behind him, stumbling once more. 

Shadow Milk quickly dragged the other through the dark hallways and fumbled slightly with the doorknob. 

Pure Vanilla’s head falling on his shoulder from behind and the arms that snaked around his waist certainly made it a lot harder. 

The other’s breath, hot against his collar, caused Shadow Milk to short-circuit. He then felt a small press of lips against his neck, barely a brush of skin. Shadow Milk couldn’t stop a full body shiver.

“Is this okay?” Pure Vanilla asked quietly. 

“More than okay.” Shadow Milk ground out before pushing the door open and shoving Pure Vanilla in there, slamming it closed behind him. The burnt candle wicks still glowed a red, but didn’t light up the room as much as they had previously. 

Shadow Milk was going to beeline to the bed but suddenly he was pressed up against the closed door, body pinned between it and Pure Vanilla who leaned forward and hurriedly peppered kisses up his neck. 

Shadow Milk let out a whimper when Pure Vanilla opened his mouth to take more dough into it. He wrapped his arms around the Healer’s neck and grabbed at his hair with his hands. 

It had been so long. So long since he had last felt the touch and warmth of another cookie. Millennia under the blasted tree made him forget what it was like, and forget why he used to crave it. Each press of lips caused more goose bumps to rise on his body and he felt like he was melting into mush, he fought to keep his physical form. 

“More.” He demanded under his breath. 

“Oh Shadow Milk, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for.” Pure Vanilla murmured, nuzzling the crook of his neck before retreating his head. One of fingers came to lightly press against Shadow Milk’s bottom lip.

“Can I?” 

“Yes. Please.” Shadow Milk rushed out, much too fast to look anything other than desperate. 

He didn’t know who closed the gap but their lips crashed together in a passionate kiss finally. Shadow Milk’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyes fluttered shut. One of his hands slipped under the layers of hair and clawed at the nape of Pure Vanilla’s neck. 

The kiss was rough and all consuming, their lips moved messily at different rhythms, both much too swept away to think. Pure Vanilla leaned back slightly to breathe and Shadow Milk pathetically followed to chase his lips, not wanting to separate. It had really been too long. 

Pure Vanilla dipped back in to meet Shadow Milk once more. His tongue darted out to trail across his bottom lip and Shadow Milk much too eagerly let him in. He allowed Pure Vanilla to explore his mouth before pushing back. 

He traced Pure Vanilla’s perfect teeth with his tongue. He felt a hardness press up against his leg, not moving or grinding, just there. Oh. 

He whimpered as Pure Vanilla took back control of the kiss. “Nilly–” He asked in between one, cut off as Pure Vanilla harshly pressed his lips against his once more. “Nilly, the bed.” He panted into the other’s mouth. “Please.” He tacked on dumbly.

The pressure left as Pure Vanilla grasped one of his hands and hastily led him to the bed. Shadow Milk followed in a daze. He laid down on the silken sheets pulling the healer to hover over him, knees pressed at the side of his hips. He tugged at the sweater to throw it over his head. And leant up to meet Pure Vanilla in a kiss once more.

Pure Vanilla rubbed his hands up and down Shadow Milk’s midriff as if he were trying to imprint the shape into his mind. His skin buzzed pleasantly from the touch.

“Shadow Milk you’re so beautiful.” His lips left the jester’s as he peppered kisses down Shadow Milk’s stomach, his soft eyelashes tickled as he moved across his skin. “So, so beautiful.” 

Shadow Milk moaned without thinking in response, much too loud. Pure Vanilla pressed their clothed hard-ons together causing Shadow Milk to make another embarrassing noise. 

He grasped Pure Vanilla’s head and dragged it back up to meet in a wet open mouthed kiss, their tongues skimmed each other. 

“More.” Shadow Milk panted. 

The rest of the night was all consuming. He begged mindlessly for Pure Vanilla like a starved man. Shadow Milk had truly forgotten what touch was like, and now his body was firmly pressed up against another. His thoughts faded away as his back arched under Pure Vanilla’s careful touch.

“Are you alright?” Pure Vanilla murmured afterwards he had cleaned them up, he seemed much too composed. He shifted slightly closer to Shadow Milk’s spent body. Somehow, despite being much too hot and sweaty he found he didn’t mind. 

At some point Shadow Milk realised he had to reply.

 “Fine— good.” 

“That’s good.” 

Shadow Milk lay there flat on the bed looking up at the hazy ceiling, still catching his breath. He couldn’t believe it. That just happened. 

“Goodnight, Shadow Milk.” Pure Vanilla whispered after a minute of silence.

He felt the flutter of eyelashes against the nape of his neck, Pure Vanilla pressed his forehead against the back of Shadow Milk’s head. He wrapped his arms around Shadow Milk.

The warmth was comfortable, soothing even. 

Not long afterwards, Shadow Milk fell into a deep sleep.

—

Sometime later Shadow Milk walked — well floated, in the gardens with Pure Vanilla. The cookie had chatted mindlessly about the greenery as they weaved through the tall hedges littered with newly blooming flowers, flourishing even more than they had before the rain. 

Fallen leaves still heavy with water crunched beneath Pure Vanilla’s feet as they fell into a comfortable silence. Birds swooped from the trees happily allowing the droplets to fall on their feathers. 

As they walked, the former king placed one hand delicately at the small of the jester’s back, his other clutched his staff the tiniest bit more. 

Shadow Milk had noticed immediately, of course. The touch was light and careful, barely a brush of the fingers, a wordless question. Shadow Milk leaned into it without hesitation, he still couldn’t help but melt under Pure Vanilla’s fingers. 

“You’re being awfully quiet today.” Pure Vanilla piped up.

Shadow Milk agreed with a low hum, he leaned in closer so his shoulder bumped against the other’s.

A warm smile adorned Pure Vanilla’s face as he let out a quiet laugh, his hand, no longer cautious, shifted on Shadow Milk’s back.