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Spite’s been out a lot more lately. Not that much more in battle, but while they’re at Lighthouse it’s particularly evident.
“He’s been throwing a fit about not being allowed to do what he wants to do outside of battle,” Lucanis explains at dinner, which is courtesy of Bellara on this particular night. “So he gets a bit of time every other day to explore the Lighthouse. Taash has been helping me keep an eye on him.”
“That’s… nice?” Bellara offers, but skepticism is evident on most of their companions' faces.
“The only problem is that he keeps trying to go to the main building.” Taash says. “I don’t want him going anywhere near the eluvian again.”
“Would it hurt to let him look around with supervision? As long as he doesn’t go downstairs, of course.” Rook asks, looking over as Lucanis shrugs.
“I don’t think he necessarily wants to escape anymore, he’s just overly curious about everything.”
“I could help keep an eye on him while he’s there.” Rook offers, and Lucanis offers him a smile.
“I wish neither of you had to babysit him, but it would be appreciated. Maybe once he’s explored everything he’ll be calm— well . Satisfied with exploring with me, perhaps.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“He did not like the term ‘babysit,’” Emmrich says with an apologetic look as Lucanis’s brows furrow, a headache forming thanks to the loud, whiny demon.
“Then he should act less like one.” Lucanis grumbles, stabbing into his food. Rook rests a hand on his shoulder, and while Lucanis leans into the touch he can see the way he squeezes his eyes shut to ward something off.
Maybe he’ll have a one-on-one chat with Spite to see what’s really up.
It’s a day later when Taash comes to his room. “Hey. Demon watch time.”
It’s not as jarring anymore to see his lover (boyfriend? Partner? They haven’t defined anything yet) with glowing purple eyes, but the moment Spite sees Rook his expression turns into a wide grin that is still a bit jarring.
“Rook!” Spite cheers with glee, darting forward and getting up in his face immediately. Rook lets it happen, although Taash looks a little bit wary. When Spite takes over it alway does somehow seem like Lucanis gets sharper teeth, although he thinks he might be imagining it. Spite inhales deeply. “Rook smells nice!”
“Hey. Didn’t we talk about smelling people without their permission?”
“It’s okay,” Rook says, despite the way his cheeks flush at Spite nearly buried his nose into his neck. “I smell a lot better than I do when we battle, yeah?”
“Mm. Smells like blood and blight and chocolate in battle.” Taash snorts, and Rook sends a glare their way. “Now, smells like coffee. Lucanis! And chocolate.”
“My coffee does have chocolate in it,” Rook affirms, a quiet laugh leaving his lips as he realizes that Spite has also undoubtedly connected the smell of coffee to Lucanis. It’s his favorite smell. He takes a step back and Spite gets a sour look on his face. “Do you want to look in the Lighthouse now?”
“No.”
Taash frowns, and Rook pauses. “Taash told me you’ve been wanting to get into the Lighthouse.”
Spite huffs, glaring at the both of them. “ No! Lighthouse—“ he hisses, “boring. Want Rook!”
Oh. Oh!
By the time his brain has processed that, Taash is already clutching their stomach laughing, and Spite is all up in his space again with both arms wrapped around his waist.
“Haha, yes, so glad you’re having a good time Taash,” Rook says blandly, scooching Spite’s hands up higher on his back from where they keep dropping suspiciously. He sighs, “Okay, why don’t we chat for a bit? Taash you can go pine over Harding, or whatever.”
“Wha— hey !” Taash sounds lightly offended, but Rook is too busy hauling an extremely clingy Spite up the stairs.
“Smells a lot like Rook,” Spite once again affirms as he drags the demon into his room, who finally lets go of his waist to look around at his stuff.
He sniffs his things in a way that reminds him of a cat, although he does push Spite away from his wardrobe. He’s got a number of coffee mugs that Spite connects to Lucanis, some trophies and banners up, and a few gifts from his companions (including a wooden figurine of himself from Davrin, which Spite both hisses at and rubs his fingers over reverently). The demon pauses at the big, black curtains that take up most of the opposite wall, touching the fabric with an uncharacteristic gentleness.
“I wouldn’t open—“
“Won’t open. Rook put this up for us.” The watery refraction of light and fin-shaped shadows only pokes through at the bottom of the curtains, which are, to be clear, more just giant swaths of fabric he found for cheap at the market than actual curtains. “Rook is good for us. We love Rook.”
It’s a calmly-stated declaration, but the weight of it has Rook dizzy. He sits (falls) back onto his couch/bed, exhaling purposefully slow. Spite turns to face him, sidling up to his side quietly.
“Hi there.”
“ Rook .” The sound is close to purring, and he’s not that surprised that the demon kisses his lips, cheek, jaw, neck. “My Rook. Our . Our Rook.”
“So you just wanted to hang out with me, huh? No eluvian shenanigans?” Rook hums thoughtfully between kisses, shuddering at wandering hands that dip under his clothes to feel his bare skin. “Woah there. Calm down a bit, please.”
The demon grumbles but his hands don’t venture below the belt anymore, and Rook belatedly realizes he’s not really kissing him or feeling him up with any kind of rhythm or purpose; he just wants to touch. It’s haphazard, for sure, but it’s oddly reverent.
Rook sighs and relaxes back into the cushions, assuming this is just what’s gonna happen now, combing his fingers through the hair of a miraculously quiet Spite. It’s maybe thirty minutes or an hour later, when Spite pauses, and Lucanis’s brown eyes blink back into focus.
“Hi,” Rook hums out tiredly, drowsy from his now horizontal position on his bed-couch and the gentle affection Spite had decided to lay on him. “You okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Lucanis answers smoothly, slowly taking in their situation. “You were cuddling Spite?”
“It felt more like Spite cuddling me, but yes. He’s very touchy.” Rook laughs softly, unbothered. “Turns out he doesn’t care at all about what’s in the Lighthouse— he just wanted to see me. Said he loves me.”
He said ‘we love you’ specifically, but that’s something for another time.
“He loves you, huh. That’s… not that surprising, actually.” Lucanis answers, a thoughtful look on his face as rearranges himself to be spooning Rook. “You know, the first time he threw a tantrum when we got to the Lighthouse was because he wanted to talk to you.”
“He likes throwing tantrums.”
“Well, it seems like that strategy is working out for him. You’re spoiling him.”
“ I’m spoiling him? You gave him play time!”
“It is not ‘play time,’ it is an allowable time for him to get his energy out so he—“
“That’s play time!”
“No, it's enrichment time and—“
“Like what Assan has?!”
“NO—!”