Doctrine of Labyrinths fic
So this is brief and weird and probably OOC as hell because I haven't touched the canon in months and I think my Felix muse is channeling Matsumoto Jun rather too much for anyone's comfort. But I wanted something new to celebrate the move to Dreamwidth and I can't do digital art in class the way I can scribble something out. So. I promise I'll stop pretending I can write and go back to the pretty pictures soon. :D

In the meantime, have some

"It's got nothing to do with you!" Felix roared. Something rattled against the wall in the silence of Gideon's answer, and Mildmay curled up in his closet, glad to miss at least part of the argument. Felix's side was bad enough. Everything was still for a long moment, and then he could hear Felix hissing, "Get out."

Another spiteful pause, and Mildmay heard the door to the Mirador's endless hallways open and abruptly slam shut. He closed his eyes, rubbing them tiredly in the dark, listening to Felix's harsh, angry breathing in the next room.

A shaft of light cut across Mildmay's face. Felix stood outside, silhouetted against the sharp light while Mildmay's eyes struggled to adjust. He seemed to loom like storm clouds over the sim, and Mildmay hunched his shoulders defensively. "What'd y--"

"Come to bed," Felix demanded, mismatched eyes strangely empty, dark, as he started to come into focus.

“I ain’t—“

“I know!” Felix crossed his arms, looking angry again. One fist curled inside his fancy sleeve, drawing back like he wanted to throw a punch, and then his teeth fastened hard onto his bottom lip. “I’m not going to argue this with you,” he said, crisply steady and unyielding. “Come with me.”

The obligation d’ame slammed against Mildmay’s mind, and he found his muscles drawing him along behind Felix before he’d even consciously decided to follow, dragging his crippled leg stiffly as they made their way into the main suite. Felix stalked along without looking back, threw himself petulantly across the multicolored coverlet in a tangle of long, elegant limbs. He shrugged carelessly out of his court coat, left it spread out across the bed beneath him, and Mildmay shifted, standing awkwardly beside the bed.

“Well?” Felix arched his brow in that flash way of his that made Mildmay want to smack him. Instead, he just grit his teeth, cussing himself out like a dockworker for being six types of fool as he lowered himself gracelessly to sit beside his brother. “You must be joking,” Felix drawled. Mildmay snapped his head up, startled, to see Felix’s chest bared, his hair loose around his shoulders, as he started to skim out of his pants. Mildmay felt his mouth go dry. Felix was giving him a “do try not to be overly dense?’ look just like Keeper’d used to use, but Kethe love him if he didn’t deserve it. “You knew the stories, Milly-fox,” he thought. “You knew this could happen. You had every warning, you thrice damned shitforbrains, and now you’re going to end up just like Silas.” Felix’s hands came up, warm against the line of his jawbone, to unbutton his high collar.

“You should get comfortable,” Felix whispered. The obligation curled, hot and bitter, down Mildmay’s throat as he slowly slid off his vest. The rough linen of his shirt burned against his skin under Felix’s eyes; Mildmay wanted desperately to but couldn’t look away. His fingers hesitated, trembling, at the laces of his breeches. Felix’s breath was coming hard, and Mildmay was suddenly sure that Felix was going to kiss him. But Felix only turned away, and Mildmay hurredly finished undressing and hid beneath the covers.

“You ain’t gonna do this,” Mildmay slurred, refusing to look up as Felix shoved him over onto his side and fitted himself up against Mildmay’s back.

“Hush,” Felix returned, biting his shoulder almost hard enough to draw blood. His tattooed fingers stroked, lazy and slow, along the tense muscles of Mildmay’s stomach. Mildmay opened his mouth to continue arguing, but his tongue felt like lead, and somehow the words wouldn’t come, and while he hesitated Felix leaned up over him and blew out the light, leaving a faint scent of smoke curling through the darkness around them.

Felix wrapped his arms back around him, slipped one knee in between Mildmay’s and pulled him close. Felix’s legs, his smooth chest, the sharp protrusion of his hip were searing against Mildmay’s bare skin, but his fingers were cold. Mildmay could feel himself shaking, and couldn’t name the sick, hot feeling that prompted it.

But the moment stretched out and Felix only held him, cool fingers never straying lower than his hipbones. Slowly, Mildmay let his muscles start to relax as the day’s exhaustion caught up with him, the drugging dispersal of tension after an attack. He was near sleep when Felix’s voice murmured, low and thick from the darkness, “Why did you stay with me, when I was mad?”

Mildmay tucked his head a little, even in the darkness. “There weren’t nobody else,” he mumbled. Felix said nothing, only let out a little breath like a pack kid who’d been abandoned by her mates, and Mildmay found himself continuing without thinking. “Y’didn’t deserve t’be left alone.” Mildmay almost wished he knew how to talk all flash, knew the words to make it clear what he meant—saving him from the curse, helping the ghosts at Nara, listening to him in Nepenthe. But he didn’t, so he just ended up muttering again, “Y’didn’t deserve that.”

“…I see,” came the same small voice from behind him. “I’m going to do it, you know. When I fix the Virtu, neither of us will have anything to fear from anyone, ever again. No one will be able to touch us.”

And Mildmay didn’t know what to say to that anymore than to the rest of it, was only half awake as it was. “Okay,” he whispered. That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he just settled down and didn’t say nothing else for a long time. And if Mildmay wasn’t quite asleep when Felix pressed the small kiss between his shoulderblade, he wasn’t awake enough that he had to comment on it either.


Note: I've only read through The Virtu, so please don't spoil me for later stuff.