Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was common for people to say how much Hanahaki hurt, how intrusive it felt, the struggle it took to breathe. For now, at least, Sharpness didn’t notice any of that.  

It was only a single petal. Mauve, small, fragile. It hadn’t hurt, it had just sort of tickled when he had coughed it up. He hadn’t even been doing anything, just sharpening his sword, then suddenly feeling like there was an itch at the back of his throat.

It had felt no different than any other cough.

Sharpness shifted his thumb, watching the petal move under it. It spun between his fingers teasingly, as if making fun of him for every decision he had made up until this point. Everything he had done that got him here. This was going to become a problem soon enough, but for now, there was nothing to do about it. 

He left.

He had betrayed Jude, tried to kill him and had his strength stolen for it in return. He left. Going back now would be making a fool of himself. He wasn’t the type of guy to raise a white flag over a single petal. Not that he’d tell anyone once it actually got bad, either. 

He sighed, dropping the petal to the ground and moving his attention back to his sword. Better to focus on something else. If he forgot about it entirely, it would go away.…Probably. He wasn’t actually sure of how Hanahaki really worked. He’d have to find a book on it later. 

He flipped the sword over in his hands, watching the way the light reflected off of the clean surface. It had taken ages to get all the blood off. He had neglected it for a while, too busy with studying Jude’s actions and working out the kinks that came with planning a betrayal. He hadn’t had a second to spare for himself in weeks, and his sword had become caked in brown flakes. 

Thankfully he had finally been able to clean it before it began to rust. 

He gripped the coarse stone in his hand, running it down the side of his weapon. The friction made an unnaturally painful sound, one that he had grit his teeth and become desensitized to for years. He only managed to get the stone halfway across when he felt he had to cough again. 

“Oh, for the love of—” 

He held out his hand and spat out the petal with more ferocity than probably needed. This better not be a constant thing. 

He dropped his sword to the ground gently—he was annoyed, but not enough to dent it after so much time working on it—and walked away, shaking the mucous petal off his palm with a grimace.

Water. He needed to wash his hands of this slime (which he would refuse to acknowledge came from his own mouth because that was disgusting) and just… block this out. 

He would forget about Jude, he had to forget about Jude. He had left. He could have stayed, but he didn’t, and now he would have to deal with the choice. The…mistake. 

A shiver ran down into his hands from the cold water in his sink. He didn’t have hot water, that was a luxury only long term bases could afford. Long term bases weren’t seen often in Strength. Jude had hot water. No one dared enter his base.

Don’t think about Jude.

He splashed some of the water on his face too, swishing it between his teeth to wash out the sweet earthy flavour of flowers.

Sharpness dried his hand on an old shirt that wasn’t his, one he had stolen from because it was purple, matched the owner's hair just perfectly, had reminded Sharpness of him, was just too soft to keep his hands off. At this point it had too many holes to reasonably wear. He had kept it anyway, long after it was wearable. He hadn’t wanted to throw it away.

Don’t think about that.

He glanced outside. It wasn’t dark enough to sleep, but he didn’t want to think about anything right now and simply not being able to seemed like an easy way to avoid the whole ordeal. 

In the meantime, he busied himself tidying up his little cabin. 

He had built it recently, having forced himself to double his productivity while planning the betrayal. He needed a place to stay when he left, a place to reestablish himself and build new alliances.

Thousands of blocks out, hidden away from the rest of the server. 

His sword was still on the ground. Right. He picked it up by the hilt and slid it back into the leather sheath on his waist, untying the pouch from his belt and hanging it back up where it was meant to be. 

It wasn’t actually that unkempt in the cabin, despite its packed dirt floors and hastily stacked mossy log walls. Sharpness wasn’t a clean freak, he just had a lot of time on his hands now that he wasn’t always focused on avoiding traps. 

It was so much easier now that he had nothing to do, no responsibilities besides planning, no bored rabbits poking at him every time he got a moment to breathe—

Don’t think.

A bowl of soup was left on the table from earlier. He hadn’t finished it, hadn’t been hungry. He still wasn’t hungry now, but he sat down to eat the leftovers anyways. Anything to distract himself. 

The bowl was lopsided. It rolled around on the table when jostled, and Sharpness had to hold onto it so it wouldn’t wobble away. It was handmade, carved from his own sword that Jude had stolen for the project. 

Sharpness had walked in on him struggling to chip away at the wood with the tip of the blade. Jude had been smacked across the head and lectured to never touch the weapon again. Sharpness had demanded he get the bowl in return, since it was made with his own weapon. Jude hadn’t argued. Hadn't even put up a fight. He'd just smiled at Sharpness, handing over his creation with a brush of hands, warm and work-hardened. 

Sharpness let the bowl roll away from him. It spun itself off of the table and onto the floor, clacking against the spoon that had managed to stay inside and coating the dirt with a layer of broth and vegetables. He’d clean it later. Not like he had anything better to do for the next few days. 

But… if he didn't clean it now, it would dry like that.  Just looking at the shoddy woodwork, Sharpness could bet dried soup wouldn’t come out well, and he’d have to get rid of it.

Sharpness stared at the bowl desperately, willing it to clean itself. How did every one of his belongings manage to relate to Jude? When had he managed to sneak himself so firmly into Sharpness’ life that even death and running couldn't truly leave him behind? 

Sharpness coughed, doubling over when the usual way of clearing his throat didn’t work. He wheezed, trying to free his airway. It still didn’t feel painful,  as he imagined a full flower would, but there was more there than last time. Three petals. Light purple. They clumped together, damp and as disgusting as before. 

He dropped them to the ground and grumbled, picking up his abandoned bowl and heading towards his sink to wash it out.

He glanced outside, hoping that the sun had set. It seemed the server was on his side for once. 

It was dark now. He could sleep without fearing being attacked, thanks to the fact that everyone on this server had surprisingly rigid sleep schedules. 

He fastened his shutters in case anything (or anyone) tried to get in, blowing out the flame in his makeshift oil lamp. Better to make people think he wasn’t here. 

It was quiet in the house, sound muffled by trees and distance. He hadn’t yet grown accustomed to the loneliness this far out from spawn.

Sharpness didn’t want to dwell on what—who, that feeling was caused by.

He glanced at the door as if someone would show up, catching himself in the act and shaking his head.

“You left,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. “Pull yourself together.”

Hopefully he didn’t choke on flowers while he slept.

Sharpness awoke to a soft knocking on the door. He was groggy, confused, and it took him a moment to register it as anything more than a branch tapping on it. The moment he did, he shot up. 

He stared towards the door through the murky blackness, frozen, slowly inching his way out of bed and towards his sword. 

He had made it about halfway across the room when the person outside spoke. 

“Sharp, please let me in." 

… Jude? 

“I just need to talk to you. I-” Sharpness could imagine Jude nervously playing with the ends of his hair from behind the door, “I miss you. ”

Sharpness changed trajectory to skip over grabbing his sword and just head straight to the door in defeat. He wasn't going to get over this, was he? He couldn’t say no to Jude, never to him. 

Sharpness unlatched the door with a soft click, letting it creak open to peek through the crack. 

Jude stared back at him, the corners of his mouth turned up in an embarrassed smile. His hair was messy, he must have run to get here, and he was hunched over slightly to catch his breath. There was a cut on his ear and dirt on his jacket.  He was smiling anyway. 

“Hey," he grinned at Sharpness. "Could I come in?”

Sharpness glared at him, but opened the door fully anyways and stepped to the side. 

Jude whistled. "It's nice in here," he noted, glancing around at the little house. His eyes hovered over the bed, Sharpness’s bed, the one with messy covers and a pillow slumped over on the floor that Sharpness hadn't noticed falling while Jude had been spooking him. 

Sharpness shifted back and forth on his feet, hovering awkwardly. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. 

Why was Jude here? 

Jude stepped fully into the room—letting Sharpness actually close the door behind him instead of just standing there—and walked towards the table. The bowl had been left there, but it had been cleaned and dried. Sharpness had left it upside down so it wouldn't roll away. 

Jude picked it up carefully and turned it over in his hands. He looked surprised. “You still have this?" 

Sharpness nodded. His mouth felt dry, he couldn't think of anything to say or how to say it. 

What was customary for when your betrayed-ex-ally waltzed into your house in the middle of the night? 

Jude looked over at home suddenly, placing the bowl back down. It rolled onto the floor. Neither of them pointed it out. 

“Sharpness." Jude stepped closer, and Sharpness stepped back to match him. 

“Sharp,” Jude said softer this time, and Sharpness couldn't will himself to move as Jude ran his hands down Sharpness’ arms, weaving his fingers with his own. Sharpness stared at the movement in a trance, Jude's hands fitting with his own like a puzzle. 

Sharpness’ breath hitched in his throat and he glanced back up at Jude in confusion. “Jude, what are you—”

Jude pressed their lips together and Sharpness froze. His mouth was warm and felt far too close to Sharpness’ own. Jude's lips were cracked, having never bothered using any sort of balm or anything to fix them, too distracted working on new traps to test. Now Sharpness could feel that on his own lips,  moving softly and far more gently than he had pictured Jude capable of. 

“Sharp—” Jude broke away from him, still close enough that Sharpness could feel his breath mingling with his own, to count the freckles that were too faint to see from anywhere further than this. 

Sharpness hummed in content. 

“You left me.”

Sharpness jolted out of his bed. There were petals on top of him, petals around him, but he could breath at least, none were stuck in his mouth. 

It was still dark, but a little bit of sifted sunlight slipped under the crack of the door as a reminder that daybreak would be sometime soon. Despite that, he still couldn't see much, and he scrambled up to light a match. 

It took a moment to light a match for his lamp, his hands too shaky for precision work, but when he did and glanced up, nothing was amiss. 

The door was latched, the windows were shuttered. The bowl on the table was still firmly upside down where he had left it. 

Jude wasn't here. 

Jude wasn't here. 

Sharpness collapsed down onto the floor, wrapping himself over his knees, nauseous. 

It was just a dream.

He thumped his head against legs repetitively, lacking enough effort to actually hurt. 

Pull yourself together.

He was exhausted. It felt like sleep had made him feel worse, and if climbing back in bed gave him even a chance of dreaming something like that again, he would rather just wait until he was forced to pass out from exhaustion before willingly  tormenting himself with shit his subconscious came up with, teasing him for what he didn't have. 

He stood up and practically marched over to the door. His armour was stationed there, but he didn't bother glancing at the heavy suit, instead just slipping on his undershirt and pulling his cloak over it. 

His sword was still hanging in its place by his bedside table, and he hesitated before attaching it to his belt. He really didn't want to be caught off guard tonight. If someone managed to kill him while he was just walking, he'd never hear the end of it. People would ask, people would know something was wrong. He'd have to tell them something, even if it was to just get them off his ass. 

Probably best to take the sword. 

A sudden gagging feeling hit him,  pressing against the sides of his throat painfully as if to choke him. There was nothing there, no hands around him,, but he couldn't breathe, and it hurt. Whatever was choking him was doing it from the inside. 

Oh, so that's how Hanahaki really feels. 

He vomited a cascade of petals, too many to bother to count, but not enough that he wouldn't be able to if he wanted to. He could rebuild an entire flower with all this. He grimaced at the clump on the floor.

They were the same shade of light purple, but the spatter of blood atop them made the colour seem less soft to his eyes now, more akin to the shade of a plant you’d be warned not to eat. 

He heaved again, retching out a few more petals to add to his growing collection, his body shaking from the effort. 

The energy exertion forced him to stay there for a minute, catching his breath.

Get up.

Sharpness straightened his posture warily, wobbling from the effort.

Move it.

He felt sweaty, but he was cold, it was freezing out, and he grabbed an extra shirt to pull over the one he was already wearing as he unlatched the door and slipped out. 

It was growing closer to dawn, the sky bright enough to see where he was going yet the sun not yet visible. A foggy glow coated the sky lazily faineantly, helping him see where he was walking. 

There were trees everywhere, tall enough that he had to crane his neck all the way back if he wanted to see the top. Spaced out enough that he'd see if anyone was coming. 

He'd built his makeshift house here intentionally. 

The forest around him didn't help to clear his head. If anything, it forced him to think harder. 

He had, he could sourly admit to himself, dreamed of kissing Jude before. Back when they were on good terms, when he stayed in the base from time to time and Jude would smile at him when he woke up. 

In all those dreams though, he was the one to initiate it, to pull him closer by his shoulder, his hair, his face. Never his hands. It felt intimate, so much more intimate than they had ever been, stretching uncomfortably close to something more akin to love than just lust. But that was what Hanahaki entailed, didn't it? 

He loved Jude. 

He turned on his heel. He could go forever into this forest. He had no idea where it ended, and the rest of the server was behind him. But still he turned, heading back to reality. 

There had to be someone with a library on this server. 

Saparata most likely had one if no one else did. He had an affinity for that type of thing, and he and Sharpness were on neutral enough terms that he wouldn't kill Sharpness on the spot for knocking on the door. 

His first return to the main server, and it would be for books. What a lame return. Pathetic, if anyone found out what in specific he was searching for. He prayed Saparata wasn't some sort of gossip hound. 

It took a while to reach Saparata’s place. He had (rightfully so) decided to place himself a bit further away from spawn from most to avoid the stress and constant foot traffic, which made the walk longer than Sharpness would have liked. 

The walk was extended even more so by the fact that he was forced to stop to spit out petals every ten minutes or so—not quite the quantity his lungs had produced earlier, but irritating nevertheless.

He had to stop every time to kick dirt over the flowers, not wanting his little Hansel and Gretel trail to be stumbled across by a wandering player. 

By the time he arrived, the sun was directly above him, his feet were sore, and he was sweating under his clothes. 

At least arriving at a later time of day would increase his chances of Saparata being home. 

He reached up for the knocker—because Saparata had installed a door knocker for some reason, who even had those?—but as he was about to grab it, the door swung open and he stepped back clumsily. 

“Oh, uhm." Saparata stared at him for a moment in surprise before snapping his fingers. "Sharpness! To what do I owe the pleasure, man?" 

Sharpness ignored the fact that Saparata clearly had forgotten his name. He was new, he'd get a free pass. 

“Do you have books?”

Saparata looked thoroughly lost before schooling his expression into a more neutral one. “Uh. Yes? Depends. What are you looking for?" 

Sharpness stayed silent. This is what he had wanted, wasn’t it? To know more about his disease, as if learning everything he could about it would starve off the imminent death he was still trying to ignore.

It didn’t make admitting that he was dying because he had gone soft to a guy he barely knew.

He could go home. The return journey would be infuriatingly long and coming out all this way would turn out to have been a useless waste of time.

His thoughts were overwhelmingly conflictive.

Maybe it was better that they weren't acquainted?

Saparata was new. His only ally so far was DoomedCow, who Sharpness knew next to nothing about and was about as equally recent of an addition as his teammate. 

He had no one to tell. 

“... Hanahaki," he whispered in admittance, not breaking eye contact. He refused to back down. If he looked away it would be admitting weakness. 

Saparata stared at him. “Oh." 

He was wearing an expression too close to pity for Sharpness’s comfort, so when he opened his mouth and started with “That's a bummer, sounds painful,” Sharpness glared and cut him off. 

“Do you have a book or not, Saparata?" 

“I—yeah, I do.” He stepped back and let Sharpness enter. Whatever plans he’d had before Sharpness had arrived were clearly forgotten. . “Call me Saps, none of that full name stuff. Library's in the back. I'm not super organised yet, so I don't even really know where anything is in there, but if you want, I could help look.” 

Sharpness shook his head. Saps seemed like a guy who would talk his head off if he let him, and he really wasn't in the mood. 

“Okay. I'll be here though; call if you need something." Saps walked off into a side room and left Sharpness alone to wallow. 

It wasn't hard to find the library, it was actually just straight forward if you started at the front door. The real problem started from there. 

Sharpness had heard that Saps liked books, but didn't realise it was quite to this degree. 

Piles of books as tall as Sharpness were stacked on top of each other, crowding the floor and taking up every nook and cranny across walls of bookshelves.

None of the top shelves were filled, likely due to Saps not being able to reach them. Maybe Sharpness could get him a ladder as a thanks for letting him in while he was dealing with all of…this. 

His throat hurt. He could feel a weight lying heavy in his lungs.

Right. He had a reason for being here.

It took him a while to sort through Sap’s excessive love of literature. He seemed to collect everything he could get his hands on, though history was a recurring subject. Sharpness hadn’t even heard of half the servers that these books described.

Some time later, Saps entered the library quietly, handed him a cup of tea— “For your throat,” hesaid—and walked out without bothering him. 

Sharpness had thrown up another handful of flowers immediately after he left, but the tea had helped. It softened the scratch, despite the flavour being far too sweet for Sharpness’ taste. 

Jude had always put too much sugar in tea as well. 

He must have been there for close to an hour before Sharpness picked up a heavy, old, greying book, bound in some sort of leather (horse or rabbit, he couldn’t tell) with soft edges worn from use. A dried flower was pressed against the cover.,

It seemed interesting enough that Sharpness bothered to flip it open. The pages were thick, hand-made paper decorated with watercolour painted illustrations.

It became clear very quickly that it wasn’t about botany.

“Oh, you found it.”

Sharpness jumped, not expecting Saps behind him.

“Sorry,” Saps said. “Did you want more tea?”

Sharpness pinched his mouth shut. Yes, he wanted to respond. The flowers were too thick on his tongue to voice that. 

Saps knew already how weak he was, that he had somehow managed to love someone so much that it was literally killing him, but for some reason, the idea of showing definitive proof of his symptoms seemed too painful for Sharpness to consider. 

Unfortunately, Saps wasn’t going anywhere. He hovered behind Sharpness patiently, waiting for a response. 

“You can nod or shake your head.” Saps saved him, and Sharpness nodded appreciatively. 

Less honey this time, he thought about saying, but Saps was already walking away, so he just turned and spat the flowers into his hand, pushing them under his cloak with the rest.

Turning his attention back to the book, Sharpness flipped to the first page and read on, leafing through the pages slower this time, now that he knew it was what he was looking for.

For the most part, it was stuff he already knew; “love that didn’t flower” and all that crap. There was a whole section on flowers that patients commonly produced, but Sharpness didn’t see anything on the thin purple petals he’d become familiar with. 

By the time he set the book down, the sky had grown dark, clouds filtering over the low sun and muffling its last few rays. 

He felt…defeated. He hadn’t realised until after he had shut it how desperate he was for some kind of cure, something he could do to free himself from the inevitable end that hovered over him.

Going by the word of the book, that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t just forget Jude. Part of him had already felt that it would be impossible anyways. Jude was sewn too tightly into his life to just leave behind, as hard as he had tried. 

Saps would be back soon, Sharpness guessed, judging by the fact that the man would want to sleep now that it was getting dark. Most people didn’t let others stay with them at night, especially not around strangers.

Sharpness picked up a book about botany he had found earlier, one that he’d previously neglected because it had nothing to do with Hanahaki.

He skimmed through it now, glancing at the illustrations, the colours of the flowers, the shapes of the petals.

A page caught his eye. The illustration showed a plant with petals smaller than the ones he had been subjected to, but otherwise appeared identical. Flowers could grow larger in humans than in dirt, described the book from before. After all, humans have more nutrients to support them, as well as love. Love, of all things, was what caused the flowers to bloom unnaturally in size. 

Scabiosa. The blossoms were the same shade of lilac as the ones he’d choked up, but there were other versions too, different-coloured petals dried and pressed into the page. White and red and a scarlet variant that was so black that it almost matched his clothes. He traced a finger over the illustrations. They looked pretty against the page, far prettier than they were spilling from his lips. 

“Sharpness?” Saps’ voice came delicately from across the room, as if he didn’t want to interrupt. 

Sharpness glanced up, pushing himself to his feet. The pile of flowers under him trickled out from under his cape, shaken like snowflakes as they fluttered back to the ground. Saps watched them fall in silence, not commenting on the mess Sharpness had made on his floor.

“Y—” Sharpness cleared his throat. He hadn’t spoken for a while, and his voice crackled strangely as a result. “Yes?”

“It’s getting late, and—”

Ah, of course. It was dark, Saps wanted to sleep, to get Sharpness out of his hair. “I’ll leave,” Sharpness interrupted. Saps looked surprised.

“Did you want to? I was gonna ask if you wanted my spare room.”

Sharpness stared at him. They barely knew each other. To offer him a place to stay was ridiculous. For a brief moment, he wondered if  Saps was hitting on him—but no, there was no way that was it, since the only reason Sharpness was here stemmed from already being very clearly infatuated with someone. 

“Why?” he asked, wincing at how desperately confused it sounded. 

Saps looked sad at that. For some reason. Sharpness needed to figure out why the guy pitied him so much. It was infuriating. Was his weakness really so shameful that even the new guy was feeling sorry for him?

“Hanahaki is…not enjoyable to deal with. I knew someone with it. They were in pain constantly.”

Ah. Empathy. 

But Saps didn’t have it, he just knew a guy. He thought that just because he had some weak friend that it meant he knew Sharpness, could understand Sharpness. 

“It’s just love. Why would it hurt?” Sharpness argued. He vaguely noticed it was the first time he had actually admitted out loud that he was in love. 

“It’s not ‘just love’.” Saps saw through his defenses. “You don’t ‘just love’ someone. Love is deeper than any ‘just’.”

“What would you know?” Sharpness grumbled. He sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum, but he was running out of things to say that made him sound stronger than he felt right now. 

“I’ve been in love before.” Saps sounded exasperated, and Sharpness felt slightly guilty for being the cause of it. “I know how strong it is. And how it feels to not be able to say it out loud.”

Sharpness stared at him. He wanted to know, had to know.

“The person you knew.” His voice was a whisper, and it felt hollowing to hear in the large room. Saps froze, watching him uncomfortably. “What happened to them?” 

The question came out more demanding than a question. The way Saps’ voice had shook when he spoke didn’t leave Sharpness guessing on what had occurred, but a selfish part of him needed to hear it. Needed to ground himself back into reality.

Saps didn’t respond for a moment. Sharpness watched him clench and unclench his fists, taking a quiet breath. 

Saps’ voice was gravelly.

“He died, Sharpness.”

Sharpness’ stomach dropped. Of course. Of course he was dead, obviously he was dead. He should have guessed that, but… people just didn’t die much here. Well, they did, but they came back. Death wasn’t permanent.

Except…

The fear he had tried so hard not to even think about was directly stated in the book to be true. Even on servers with respawn on, Hanahaki was one of those rare cases where death was permanent.

“He was smart, probably too smart, but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t tell m—them how he felt.” Saps’ gaze bored into him, heavy and full of too much grief that Sharpness wouldn’t want to unpack even if he could. 

“His feelings were returned. They were just both too scared to do anything about it.” Saps averted his gaze. “You can’t die too.”

Oh. 

Saps didn’t know him. But he knew a guy like him. A guy that had gone out the same way Sharpness was headed. 

“If I stay for the night”—the subject change wasn’t smooth in any sense of the word, but Saps looked grateful for it—“you might wake up to a room full of flowers.”

“I’d be willing to take that risk.”

Relief washed over him, and Sharpness didn’t hesitate to trail behind Saps like a lost dog as they exited the library. 

He was shown to a bed in the corner of a room that was otherwise empty besides a small dresser pressed to the far wall. The only source of light came from the lamp glow spilling in from the hallway.

Saps hesitated in the doorway as if he wanted to say something, and Sharpness twitched his brow up to signal him to speak. 

“Could I ask who?”

Who’s turned you so soft? You were one of the strongest players on the server, what happened?

Sharpness considered this. Saps wouldn’t spread it around; he could pretty confidently say that now. 

He smiled at Saps. “No.”

Saps didn’t look too bent out of shape. “That’s fair.”

He stepped out of Sharpness’ temporary room, waving a goodnight as he shut the door. 

After a beat, Sharpness opened the door again, just enough to lean out into the hallway. Saps was walking away, his back facing Sharpness, and for half a second Sharpness realised how easy it would be to steal his strength right now. He still had his sword on his hip, and Saps had his hands in his pockets, relaxed. 

Maybe another day.

“Jude.” 

Saps jumped at the voice, spinning around with a grin.

“Cute! I see it.”

Sharpness flushed pink, slamming the door closed. He could hear Saps laugh from through the wall, before going quiet.

“...I’m new, you know that. I don’t know the guy well.” 

Sharpness stiffened. 

“But,” Saps continued, “I have seen him recently around spawn. He looked devastatingly sad. Maybe you could talk to him. Cheer him up.”

Sharpness really didn't want to, but he could hear the smile in Saps’ voice and for some reason he trusted it. 

“Fine,” he whispered, even though Saps wouldn't be able to hear him through the wall. He swallowed a few petals that he hadn’t even realised had gathered in his throat. “Fine, I will.”

Sharpness woke up actually feeling rested this time, which was nice. There were flowers covering his chest anyways, not much that he could do about that. He vaguely remembered having jolted up sometime in the night just to retch them up. His throat ached from it, and his lungs felt tight.

A bit of light filtered into the room through both the cloudy sky and the glass of the small window built into a nook that he hadn’t noticed was there when he had gone to bed.

The price to pay for a good night's sleep was that he looked like shit, a pillow crease on his face and his hair in somehow simultaneously in the loosest yet tightest ponytail of all time. 

Saps hadn’t woken him up. He had just let him sleep, wasting the day away. He hadn’t even left the house; Sharpness could hear him clattering around downstairs.

He slipped out of bed, untying his hair as he went. It was tangled, but nothing that combing the knots free with his fingers for a minute wouldn’t fix. 

The tie from his hair fell off, clattering on the floor and forcing him to crouch down to pick up. It was part ribbon, part lockpick contraption he had knotted together at the beginning of the server, planning to use it to get into any rich players' bases to rob them without a trace. It had come in handy a few times after, like when he had accidentally locked himself in a storage shed and refused to call for help. 

Plus, the pins he favoured were a good sort of stick shape that helped his hair stay in place while fighting. Only deep sleep could win a fight against them.

It was still dark in the hallway, no windows to let in light. Sharpness took the stairs down slowly—partially because he felt out of breath just walking and partially because he wanted to be quiet—tying his (now neat) hair back up into a suitable ponytail.

Maybe he could leave without Saps noticing him. It felt rude to just leave after all the help Saps had provided, but Sharpness had already bothered the man enough. Saps had just joined the server; he had far better things to do than helping Sharpness with a dying love life.

Unfortunately, Saps greeted him at the bottom of the stairwell. 

“Tea?”

Sharpness shook his head. He felt too nauseous to keep anything down, and having to swallow sounded tedious. 

Saps shrugged, but backed off, walking back to where Sharpness assumed was the kitchen.

“You should go see Jude!” he yelled to Sharpness from the other room, and the man grimaced.

“I’m going,” Sharpness rasped, not as loud as he meant to, blocked by the scratching in his throat. More flowers, he assumed.

Saps stuck a thumbs-up out through the doorway, so Sharpness took that as his cue to leave.

It was cloudy outside. The cool air felt good on his skin, but the air was humid—a warning of coming rain—and he recognised that he should start walking so he could get to Jude’s place before a storm decided to roll in.

Breathing was strenuous, and walking made it worse, but at least spawn was easy to find. Sharpness managed to make it right before the rain started. It wasn’t heavy, but it soaked the ground and made it hard to see. Plus, the clouds made the air cold, even harder to gasp in any breaths he could manage to catch.

His chest hurt, really fucking bad. 

He had thrown up an entire flower on the way over, but it hadn’t cleared his airway as it normally should have. If anything, it felt tighter, stems fighting their way out and blocking his breathing. 

Under the overhang of Jude’s base, he hunched over and retched out a flower. It pushed up some of the stems, and he continued to hack out the flowers until he could manage to reach into his own mouth and gag out the obstruction.

It was absolutely disgusting, but he was anything but a quitter and at least now he could breathe again for the first time in hours.

Now for the strangely harder part. 

The stairs down to Jude’s house seemed daunting, a cave where he’d end up trapped forever. 

His options: Either live the rest of a sad life and die in a few days, or risk it for possibly the exact same result but with the added embarrassment of Jude knowing he loved the guy he had chosen to betray. 

But the slim chance that everything worked out… 

Sharpness was starting to understand why Eve had eaten that damn apple. 

That thought didn’t make the first step down the stairs any easier.

Luckily for him, he had lived here before. He knew where each tripwire was, each stair that would flip if stepped on, each pressure plate that would drop him through the floor. Continued repetition of having used these steps for months let him walk down without worry, instinctively stepping to the side around weak points. 

Jude had shown him where they all were a few days after he had unofficially moved in. (They had never agreed on anything, Sharpness had just stayed over one night, and then another and another.)

It wasn't hard to get downstairs quietly. He was winded though— wasn't that embarrassing— and realised dreadfully quickly that he would have to somehow avoid coughing until Jude noticed him. 

His throat already protested, tickling from flowers pressing to the walls of his windpipe. 

He didn't actually have a reason to be quiet, after all, he was going here to talk to Jude, ergo he would be noticed either way. It still would feel wrong to waltz in like nothing had happened. 

The opportunity to scare the Trap Master was tantalising. 

Sharpness could hear him in the storage room, chests creaking open and closed and he sorted  through them, moving around tools and blocks.

It hit Sharpness suddenly how much he missed Jude. It made his goddamn chest ache, as cheesy as it was, and he felt it reflect in the twisting feeling in his lungs.

Shit, that was the scabiosa.

He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the cough, but he needed to open his mouth, he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He grit his teeth, willing himself to take a breath through them, but his mouth was full of flowers. 

He tried to cough discreetly, but opening his mouth released a posy. He spat out as many as he could into his hands— as gross as ever— and prayed that jude hadn’t heard him.

The chest creaking had stopped.

“Parker?” Jude called from the other room, and his voice might actually be scratchier than Sharpness’. Immediately after speaking, he began coughing from the effort. Maybe he was sick.

Since he had been heard, Sharpness didn’t bother with the extra work of staying stealthy, walking over to the chest room, instinctively straightening his posture to appear stronger than he felt.

He peeked around the corner. Jude wasn’t there. Sharpness knew for a fact that there weren’t any traps in this room (Jude didn’t want his items to be destroyed as collateral), nor were there any secret paths out. 

Unless Jude had made an addition after Sharpness had left—

Someone dropped down from the ceiling, twisting his arms behind his back and pressing them down painfully. It didn’t actually restrain him all that well, whoever was trying to disarm him seemed weak. 

“Ow, I’m solo, let go of me!”

“Sharp?” Jude’s voice sounded worse—scared—up close, and he let go of his hold on Sharpness’ arms and stumbled back. 

Sharpness rubbed at his wrists. “God, man—”  his breath caught in his throat as he turned to face Jude. 

He looked beat. There were bags under his eyes, blood dried on his chin, and hair sticking up at weird angles. 

Even despite his exhausted expression, he was a sight for sore eyes. 

Jude seemed on guard, shifting his feet as if Sharpness would bite at him.

This is your fault, he reminded himself. You’re the reason he looks at you like you’ll kill him any second. Because as far as he knows, you would. 

“I just want to talk to you.”

Jude’s brows furrowed at how soft his tone was. Sharpness knew it sounded fake to anyone else, but Jude had known him long enough to know that wasn’t how he operated.

When Sharpness lied, he sounded cheerful, or confused, never desperate. Never like he actually wanted something.

Jude looked like he was actually going to respond. His shoulders relaxed, and he shifted back to a more natural pose. Right as he was about to open his mouth, Sharpness watched him freeze and about a million different emotions flash across his face.

“One second,” Jude mumbled, ducking out of the room.

“Jude!” Sharpness swore. If Jude had decided to just leave him mid conversation and not come back, he would have to rip out the flowers in his lungs by their roots so they wouldn't grow back.

He chased after Jude, stumbling around the corner and coughing out a flower (thank God that Jude was too busy running to see).

Jude’s cape flashed in his peripheral as the man scurried into a different room, and Sharpness spun on his heel to follow.

Jude had locked the door—that bitch, Sharpness was trying to be nice to him—so Sharpness banged his fist against it.

“Jude, don’t just run from shit that pisses you off!”

From the other side of the door, Sharpness could hear Jude muffled voice spit out a pained response along the lines of “no shot you’re saying that”—Sharpness felt nauseous hearing the insult— before immediately coughing and going so silent Sharpness might have thought he spit his damn lungs out. 

When he knocked again and Jude didn’t respond, Sharpness began to actually worry.

God bless his hair tie. 

He fumbled at it for a second before his ponytail fell out for the umpteenth time. His bangs slipped over his eyes immediately, forcing him to tuck them behind his ears in a way that couldn’t possibly look good. 

The lock pick clicked against the door, and he could hear Jude scrambling at the other side (still giving him the silent treatment), immediately realising what was happening.

Unfortunately for him, Sharpness had broken into many, many houses.

He slammed the door open and Jude was forced to jump back so it didn’t hit him.

Sharpness was going to yell at him, accuse him of being dramatic, but Jude shifted.

He was covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, stance wide and his cape dragging on the floor, blocking whatever was behind him.

Sharpness stared at him suspiciously. Jude glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact.

“Jude.”

Jude didn’t respond, but his eyes darted back over to stare back at him as he watched to see what Sharpness would do.

“Move.”

Jude’s eyebrows scrunched. He shook his head vehemently. Cute. 

Sharpness pressed a hand to his shoulder, and Jude tried to hold his ground but he was weak right now and Sharpness dragged him out of the way easily. 

His stomach dropped.

Behind Jude was a pile of flowers. Full, dark red blossoms, stained a darker scarlet with spatters of blood, scattered over the floor in disorganized clumps. 

Sharpness wasn’t some kind of botany expert. He could name two, maybe three types of flowers if he saw him, and that was pushing it. However, the thin petals behind Jude were one that he recognised.

Scabiosa. How acerb, universe.

He looked back over at Jude, who hadn’t attempted to move after he was initially pushed. Sharpness’ hand still rested on his shoulder.

Jude was staring back at him, hand still pressed against his mouth and his eyes wide with…embarrassment? Fear? Sharpness couldn’t tell.

He dropped his hand from Jude’s shoulder and stepped back.

“Who?” It was meant to sound less pleading, but that failed.

Jude didn’t respond, scrutinizing Sharpness’ face.

“Who, Jude. Please.” The word felt rough in his mouth. Maybe he should start being nicer.

Jude slowly lowered his hand from his mouth. The lower half of his face was splattered with blood.

“I—”

He practically threw up a bouquet at Sharpness’ feet. 

Sharpness grimaced. It was weirdly less gross coming from Jude, but it evened out on the nauseating factor by the amount of ichor on his boots.

“Why would I tell you?” Jude panted, hunched over and out of breath. 

“Is it me, Jude?” Sharpness persisted. Prayed. Jude went silent for a moment at that.

“...you’re so stuck up,” Jude continued after the pause. ”‘Is it me?’, like you’re so special.”

Sharpness very astutely noticed that Jude had not answered.

He stepped over the flowers on his shoes and closer to Jude, who had begun to back up. The action caused Sharpness’ hair to fall back over his face. Jude’s eyes flickered to the movement, but he made no comment.

“I’m not stuck up,” was what he ended up saying. “That type of scabiosa matches my outfit.”

Jude looked utterly baffled. “You know what scabiosa is? You don’t even know what a daisy looks like.”

On cue, Sharpness coughed. 

Sharpness might have been quicker in battle, but Jude had always been more perceptive than him. Jude’s eyes widened. “No.”

Sharpness spat out the flower. Light purple. Such a pretty shade.

“No,” Jude repeated, backing away from Sharpness as if he knew what he was seeing, knew what it truly meant, but couldn’t accept it. As if he had already come to terms with the fact that he would die.

“Jude.”

“No!” he denied, and it cracked in his throat. He doubled over, and Sharpness had to watch as his shoulders heaved.

He ran his hands down Jude’s shoulders, and, despite all odds, he relaxed into it, even if the coughing didn’t stop.

“You’re so stubborn. I love it. I love you,” Sharpness admitted.

Jude shook his head, but the coughing had stopped. Sharpness could still only see his back and the top of his head, ears flattened. Jude refused to look at him.

“No, you don’t.” Jude sounded so shattered to say it, hands on his knees to support himself. Sharpness could see him shaking slightly from exhaustion. 

He tightened his grip on Jude’s arms—freezing briefly as Jude flinched (holy shit, Sharpness needed to get so much better, if only for his sake)—and helped him up.

Jude sagged against his weight, face pressed into his chest. Sharpness might have thought it was endearing under different circumstances.

He slid his arms around Jude’s waist, and in turn, Jude’s hands bunched in the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t crying—at least Sharpness didn’t think he was, considering how perfectly still Jude was, but he seemed like he might at any moment, so Sharpness didn’t say anything. 

They stayed like that for long enough for Sharpness’ legs to hurt from the extra 70 kilograms he was holding up until Jude shifted, pulled back slightly, and Sharpness was forced to drop his hold and let Jude wobble back to his feet. 

Jude still didn’t meet Sharpness’ eyes, but at least Sharpness could see his face now. He didn’t look any less tired, but there was less blood on his face—damnit, that was on his shirt now.

“...My mouth tastes like shit,” Jude commented to break the silence.

Sharpness huffed out a laugh, coughing afterwards. He knew Jude liked him; why could he still feel flowers in his throat? 

Jude noticed. “I love you. Obviously,” he blurted out, and the tightness in Sharpness’ throat faltered and fell back. A sense of giddiness washed over him, and he grinned at the other man.

“How sappy.”

Jude rolled his eyes. He stepped to the side to leave—this room was dark, Sharpness vaguely remembered it as a storage closet, and they had no reason to be in here anymore—and accidentally kicked some of the flowers, glancing down in surprise. “Forgot that those were there.”

Sharpness shook his head and followed him out.

Once back in the main living space, Jude spun around.

“First of all. You are an asshole.” (Sharpness frowned, but didn’t deny it). “Second of all, you tried to kill me.” (Sharpness would regret it forever).“Third of all, I’m smarter than you.” Jude smirked, and Sharpness opened his mouth to argue, but Jude cut him off. “Fourth, I expect to wake up to breakfast in bed every day from now on. My laundry should always be done and my sword should always be clean and—”

“Jude." 

“Yes, pretty—?”

Whatever nonsense he was about to spout was cut off by lips pressed firmly against his, Sharpness running his hands through Jude’s hair, halting to curl his fingers into the waves around Jude’s ears to cling to him needily.

Jude was frozen, not reacting. For a moment Sharpness was worried he’d done something wrong, he had somehow misjudged the situation, that he really, really shouldn't have done that—but when he tilted his head and his lips slotted between Jude’s, it seemed to wake him up, and the man downright melted into him.

Jude’s mouth parted under his. Sharpness could feel faint stubble scratch against his chin, and he hadn't even realised until now that Jude had stubble. 

Jude tasted bitter and perfume-like from the residual tang of the scabiosa petals, but Sharpness didn't care. 

There was an overlaying flavour overwhelmingly akin to iron and flowers, yeah, but he also tasted like Jude, something intimate and mildly saccharine that Sharpness couldn't explain. It was strange in its own way, heated and heavy and far wetter than he had expected, but he couldn't get enough; pushing closer and relishing in the twitch of Jude's ears that he could feel under his hands. 

Jude wound his arms around his waist, dragging him closer with fingers pressed to the small of his back, pressing them flush together, and there was nothing Sharpness could have done to muffle the soft groan it drew from him. 

He could feel Jude smile against his mouth at the noise, so Sharpness kissed him harder and when Jude bit the edge of his lip, he made the sound again. 

It was disappointing to have to break apart for breath.

“You,” Jude puffed, “are noisy.”

“Shut up.” You like it. He leaned back in, and Jude didn’t stop him when he pressed their mouths together again.

Jude was so warm—he had always run hot—and it felt incredible. When he pressed his tongue against Sharpness’ lips, he couldn’t help but shudder as he let his mouth part open.

He moaned when Jude pressed their tongues together, the hands on his hips tensing and softening in a kneading rhythm.

“Jude,” he mumbled, tugging at the man’s hair.

“Need something, princess?”

The nickname made his stomach flip, and he ran his fingers through Jude’s hair and kissed him again, softer this time.“Please.”

Jude paused curiously. “Please what?” Sharpness could see a teasing sparkle in his eye.

“You know what,” he grumbled, moving down to mouth at Jude’s neck.

“I…” Jude cleared his throat, and Sharpness shivered at the hands running up his back as Jude's voice dropped.

 “Say it.”

Sharpness glanced up at him. If Jude thought he would win whatever they were doing, he was dead wrong. He snaked his arms down Jude’s back as slow as he could bother, pressing soft kisses against Jude’s collarbone. One hand sat content on Jude’s hip and the other rested on his rear.

Sharpness smirked up at him and squeezed. Jude’s ass was so soft.

Jude squeaked and jolted, grasping at Sharpness’ waist.

“I’m not going to beg for you to fuck me,” Sharpness said with false sweetness.

Jude hitched in a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Sharpness pressed their lips back together in a quick peck, relishing in Jude following after him pliantly. 

He paused at the door to Jude's room. 

“You kept my bed?” His voice broke in a whisper. 

“I was hoping you came back,” Jude admitted, equally quiet. “It worked, didn't it?”

Sharpness looked over to him. “I'm sorry.”

He stumbled over the simple words. 

Jude smiled bittersweetly at him. “Later. I don't want to be sad right now." 

He slid his hand up Sharpness’ chest, nudging him away from Sharpness’ bed and towards his own. 

They did really have a lot to talk about. 

Later. 

Sharpness was pushed onto the bed, scrambling backwards as Jude practically fucking jumped on him. He straddled him and pressed him firmly down into the mattress, cackling at the shock in Sharpness’ eyes.

“Didn’t take you to be so dominant,” Sharpness muttered, embarrassed to have been caught off guard.

“You should know better.”

“I should have. You’re a bitch everywhere, why would bed be any different?”

Jude wiggled on top of him and planted a kiss to his cheek. “How did you wanna do this, pretty boy?”

The nicknames might actually kill him. “I had… some ideas.”

Judes smile widened, and Sharpness felt like he had been caught in something. “Did you now?”

Holy shit.

He was exhausted, but he felt incredible.

Jude was asleep next to him, curled up and hogging every blanket he kept on the bed. Sharpness was too sweaty to care. 

He watched Jude’s nude back rise and fall with his breathing.

Even now, Jude lay with his back to him. 

Sharpness turned away.

Now they were equally unprotected.

He woke up only once, and briefly, to a still-dark sky and Jude pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder while slipping out of bed.

Sharpness had shifted, grumbling slightly, and Jude had just paused for a moment and breathed out something that sounded like a mumbled “gorgeous…” before continuing on like nothing had happened. Sharpness wouldn’t remember it later when he was fully awake.

The sun was up when he awoke again. Jude wasn’t there. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother him. 

The first time they had teamed, Jude had always been there when he woke up. 

Neither of them had ever mentioned that Jude had already been awake, waiting quietly for Sharpness to follow suit. He hadn't been hiding it. Both boys knew that he had just stayed mute, watching curiously in the dim light. Sharpness had never asked him about it. 

At the time Sharpness had thought it was just Jude’s usual creepiness. Looking back, it was clear that Jude had been infatuated with him for far longer than he had known. 

Sharpness stretched. The clock Jude had propped against the wall read that it was almost noon. He’d slept in just as long yesterday at Saps’ house. At least this time he had the excuse of staying up later than usual.

He clambered out of bed, picking his shirt off the floor (which he only allowed himself to do because Jude kept his floor clean and paved, no dirt in sight) and tugging it over his head.

In the mirror on Jude’s vanity he caught a glimpse of the birds’ nest on his head and grumbled, stealing Jude’s hairbrush to untangle it.

He did not want to put on the trousers he had worn last night, so he stole a pair of one of Jude’s plain black ones and hoped the man didn’t notice.

Jude was in the kitchen when he walked out, sipping on what Sharpness assumed to coffee with probably far too much sugar and creamer.

His eyes darted down to Sharpness’ outfit choice and hummed into his drink but didn’t mention anything. Sharpness could see a faint blush that he was trying to hide behind the mug.

“I’m gonna go to Sapa’s place,” Sharpness commented as he poured himself a cup (one cream, no sugar, like a normal person).

“You don’t have to tell me everything you’re doing just because we slept together.”

“Maybe I just wanted to,” Sharpness challenged, hovering next to Jude without drinking his coffee.

“Then continue to grace me with your voice.” A moment later: “I didn’t know you knew Saparata.”

“We’re acquainted. He told me to talk to you.”

Jude grinned. “Smart man.”

Sharpness scoffed. “I’ll tell him that.”

“Speaking of,” Jude sat up in his chair a little, “Are we planning to tell anyone about this…development?” He gestured between them.

“I was gonna tell Sapa. Unless you wouldn’t want me to.”

“You know me.” Jude’s eyes twinkled. “I’d probably want to see how long it took everyone to figure out on their own. Tell him though, he earned it.”

“I’ll swear him to secrecy.” He leaned over to give Jude a kiss. His hair hadn’t been tied up yet, and it fell over them like a curtain.

Jude leaned closer to meet him, pressing their lips together softly for just a moment. 

“Love you, bye!”

Jude wiggled his fingers at him as a wave. “Later, lover boy.”

Sharpness rolled his eyes as he ducked out the door.

Saps wasn’t actually home when he arrived, so he spent the time by breaking into Tai’s base and stealing the ladder he knew the man kept in his chest room to reach the top ones.

By the time he headed back, he could see Saps down the path walking over.

“Sharpness!” Saps shouted cheerfully.

Sharpness waved awkwardly, Tai’s ladder tucked under his arm in a way that made him have to shift it back up every few seconds.

“...I got you a ladder. For your library.” Sharpness felt strangely nervous.

“Oh! You noticed my not ideal book arrangement?” Saps chuckled, running a hand through his hair. It looked longer now, Sharpness noted. He had it loose, and the mild beachy waves that curled over his shoulders looked good on him. 

“Yeah, it’s uh- for the book. And the tea.” 

Saps tilted his head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Sharpness didn’t know how to say this was the only way he could say thank you. He wasn’t a fan of pleasantries, but…Saps had actually helped. He needed to repay him. 

“...Take it,” he insisted, shoving it towards Saps. The other man didn’t bother to argue, grasping it and letting Sharpness basically drop it into his hands.

“Thank you, Sharp.” Saps smiled. “This will help. Feel free to borrow a book whenever you need.”

He didn’t know what to say in return. Thankfully, Saps was talkative enough to make his own conversation.

“...So?” He asked curiously, grinning at Sharpness.

“What?”

“You’re not coughing up flowers.” Saps wiggled his eyebrows and Sharpness could feel his ears turn pink. Saps noticed, punching him playfully in the shoulder. 

“Already?” He laughed, and Sharpness suddenly felt like his personal life was being invaded.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he urged. “We’re not telling anyone yet.”

“Thats fine, man. I’m happy for you.”

Saps was still smiling, but softer now. It seemed almost sad at the corners.

“He died, Sharpness.”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Sharpness whispered carefully, noting Saps’ expression. 

His smile faltered. “It’s been a while,” Saps avoided.

“That doesn’t mean much.”

Saps exhaled heavily. “No. No, it doesn’t.”

“I don’t know if it would help, but uhm— I’m free to talk. If you ever need to. This server is stressful enough, you don’t need to bury more beneath it.”

“Is the oh-so-powerful Sharpness asking to team with me?” Saps tried to lighten the situation. Sharpness let him.

“Once in a lifetime offer.”

“And you won’t betray me?”

Sharpness paused. “...Not anymore.”

Saps didn’t press on the bruise. “Well then, glad to team with you, partner.”

He stuck out a hand for Sharpness to shake, jerking his arm fervently. 

Sharpness grinned at the enthusiasm and shook back. 

“Good to team with you too.”

Jude was waiting for him when he got home, wrapping his arms around Sharpness from behind in a way that felt so intimate and so unadulterated that Sharpness shivered.

“Did it go well?” Jude asked, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck and the corner of his jaw. 

“Yeah.” Sharpness’ voice cracked, and his voice dropped a level quieter. “Miss me?”

“You wish,” Jude mumbled, his mouth still pressed against Sharpness’ nape. 

Sharpness shuddered at the gentle bite of Jude’s teeth dull against his skin, repositioning Jude’s hands off his waist to turn around and face him.

“Can’t believe you like me.” Jude reached past his face, untying his hair. He caught the heavy ribbon before it fell, placing it behind him. “That’s kinda gay, Sharp.”

“Oh my God.” Sharpness snickered. His hair fell slack over his face, loose from its ponytail. 

Jude laughed and pulled him into a kiss, humming contently against his mouth.

“We still need to talk,” Sharpness noted when they broke apart. 

“You hurt me, a lot. But I know it wasn’t personal. I knew it when I agreed to team with you, that you’d betray me someday. I wanted to be with you anyways.”

Sharpness gaped at the admission before realising something.

“Wait, how long have you liked me?”

“Don’t ask me that,” Jude deflected. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Two months?” That was about when they had teamed up, wasn’t it?

“Longer.”

“Six?”

“...Longer.”

“A year?”

“About, yeah.” Jude looked sheepish, burying his face in the curve of Sharpness’ collarbone.

“Holy shit, Jude. How long did you have Hanahaki?”

Jude was quiet. Sharpness could feel the slight tug of him playing with the ends of Sharpness’ hair tensely. “Two months.” 

It was barely audible, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

Sharpness ran a hand up Jude’s spine.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered against the top of Jude’s head, muffled by the hair. Jude’s ears were tucked back. Even without a response, Sharpness knew he could hear him. Jude’s arms squeezed around him in appreciation.

“I was ready to die, Jude confessed. “It wouldn’t have been much longer. I think I was more scared when you showed up than I was when I accepted that I was going to die and not come back.” 

I know. 

“I should have stayed,” Sharpness acknowledged. 

“Probably,” Jude agreed, “but that isn’t how you work.”

It never had been, but that didn’t make him feel better.

“I don’t want to leave again.” It sounded wrong, he could continue to switch between allies and be far stronger than just staying with Jude, but he could feel a smile pressed against his shoulder.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Jude returned.

Sharpness slipped his hand under Jude’s head and tilted it up towards him with a soft press of fingers. Jude’s eyes were glassy, but he didn’t break eye contact with Sharpness, matching his gaze.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you just because I’m being nicer now.”

Jude scrunched up his face. “I’d kill you if you did.” 

Sharpness didn’t doubt him. “Thank God. I don’t think I could bear with being teamed with a wimp.”

“You think I’m strong?” Jude grinned.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Dominate the server with me, sweet Sharpness.” Jude adopted a high pitched voice, mimicking some sort of royalty with a horrible impression of a girl.

“You expected any less?” Sharpness combated, tugging Jude up to kiss him. 

It was soft and patient, a slow press of lips together and apart. Jude hummed against him, shifting his hands higher up Sharpness’ back to hold him. It felt intimate, something he would blush just to think back on from how domestic it was. 

He cupped Jude’s face, encouraging him to move closer, kiss him deeper—

“”What the hell?” 

The voice caused them to stumble back in surprise.

Parker stood there with his mouth agape, staring at them like they had grown two heads. Sharpness glanced away, shielding his face with his hand in embarrassment.

“Parker! It’s been a while!” Jude’s voice squeaked.

“It's been two days.” Parker sounded exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “I left for a single meeting with the pirates and you got laid?”

Jude tripped over his words trying to find a response. “I— no, we—-”

“He didn't ‘get laid’,” Sharpness interrupted. Both men looked over at him in confusion, making him feel suddenly awkward. “We’re dating.”

Oh shit, they had never actually agreed on that, had they? 

Sharpness glanced over nervously, but Jude looked ecstatic.

“Thank God,” Parker chimed in. “Thought he was a goner.”

Jude whirled around towards Parker. “You thought I was gonna die for two months and that's all you’ve got to say?”

He was caught mid-movement in a tight hug. Jude froze in the grasp, patting Parker on the head awkwardly.

“Never be that stubborn again,” Parker pleaded.

“Never,” Jude echoed, and Parker released him. 

“And Sharpness!” Parker continued. Sharpness froze under his scrutinization. “You’re treating him well?”

Sharpness stared at him in confusion. “He can treat himself well.”

Jude grinned at him. “Damn right I can.”

Parker looked sick of both of them. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have expected anything less.”

They hadn’t had anything else to say, since Parker’s visit had only been to assure that Jude’s body wasn’t decaying away in a corner of his base.

He had bid adieu, swearing that he would visit Jude again soon and forbidding Jude to never ever keep such a big secret from him again (“Parker, it was two days”).

Now Jude was sitting in front of him on Sharpness’ bed, cross-legged with their knees overlapped, staring far too intensely into Sharpness’ eyes. 

“What’s something you like about me?” Jude questioned.

“Absolutely nothing,” Sharpness answered immediately. Jude glared at him. “Fine. You’re strong.”

“Oh my God, is that all you judge off of?”

“Yeah, most people.”

“Who’s not part of ‘most people’?”

“You.”

Jude smirked at him, but Sharpness could see a layer of genuine honour in his eyes. “You’re harder to base off of just power.”

“Do my good looks overpower it?”

Sharpness rolled his eyes. “Partially. Your personality isn’t all that bad either.”

“Guess I’ve got to work harder on being annoying.”

“Oh, you’re plenty annoying,” Sharpness promised.

“You still haven’t said any actually good qualities besides strong.”

“Smart,” Sharpness continued, “handsome. Bratty.” 

“That isn’t a good thing—” 

“Interruptive.” Jude closed his mouth.

“What’s the point of this, anyways?”

“I have to make sure you aren’t just using me for my good looks,” Jude quipped.

“You just want to hear me actually compliment you.”

“What?” Jude scrunched his eyebrows together in mock confusion. “No. Never.” Sharpness shifted closer to him, their legs tangled together. 

“You want to hear how pretty you are?”

He could see Jude swallow. Sharpness pushed at his shoulders, knocking him over. 

Jude lay before him, letting Sharpness hover in a straddle, pinning him down to the bed. 

“How nice your hands feel?” Sharpness continued, his voice lower. “How—God, how good you look underneath me.”

Jude reddened and reached to grasp Sharpness’ hips, pulling him into his lap. Sharpness whined and shifted slightly, causing Jude to tighten his grip.

“How you're”—Sharpness’ breath hitched as Jude rolled his hips to meet his—“moderately okay in bed.”

Jude looked offended. “Moderately okay? Last night you were practically—” 

Sharpness crashed their mouths together. Jude moaned into the kiss, fumbling to grab at Sharpness’ shoulders and swap their positions.

He ran his tongue across Sharpness’ bottom lip, pulling on his hair. Sharpness groaned at the twinge of pain, trying to compose himself enough to grapple against Jude’s manhandling. Jude shoved him flat into the mattress, secured him in place. 

“You wish.” He smirked down at Sharpness. “You just stay where you are, princess.”

Sharpness flopped down to lay next to Jude with a heavy exhale.

“Holy shit,” Jude mumbled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. 

Sharpness curled onto his side, burying his face into Jude’s chest. He smelled sweet. Jude ran a hand through his hair, taking the moment to catch his breath.

Sharpness wished he could be mad at Jude for barely letting him move during his first time, but he really wasn’t. It had been hot, for Jude to manhandle him outside of a setting where he was being pushed in a trap. In fact, he had felt safer than he could remember ever being on the server.

Jude pressed a kiss to the top of Sharpness’ head and pulled him further on top of him, hugging Sharpness to his chest.  “I love you,” he mumbled, and it made everything feel more real to remember. 

This wasn’t a one time thing; Jude was here, Jude was staying with him. Jude had his arms wrapped around Sharpness as if he didn’t want to ever let him go, as if he wouldn’t make it if Sharpness left again.

“I love you too,” Sharpness responded, muffled by the warm plane of skin that his face was pressed against. “Forever.”