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the summer air is warm and thick, and it makes acoite feel sleepy. he nestles deeper into the mountain of beanbags and pillows and blankets that are their substitute for a bed, tail curling next to him. he keeps his eyes open, just a fraction, so that he can wait for theodore.
it’s late at night, later than theo usually stays up. their digitial clock reads that it’s 11:43 p.m., and acoite hadn’t taken his usual afternoon nap, too busy trying to find a potential new priest. thanks a lot, theo, for ascending and leaving him to flail about for a new priest on his own. though he supposes theo never really ‘left’ in the first. they’re sharing a temple, after all.
(something he’s always been silently grateful for. he’ll never admit it out loud, though. theo’s ego doesn’t need a raise.)
speaking of theo, acoite can just barely hear him in the other room. his ears twitch, listening closer to the sounds of water running and dishes clinking in the room over—ascending to godhood doesn’t excuse you from dish duty, unfortunately. but the noises become fewer and far less between, and soon enough, the faucet squeaks, and the water stops running. a cupboard opens, more dishes clink, then the hinges creak as the door closes. then, sure enough, the gentle thump of footsteps draws closer and closer before theodore’s legs come into view.
“waiting for me?” the characteristic, slightly teasing voice asks. acoite closes one eye.
“maybe,” he mumbles, as the pillows next to him sinks, and theo sits down, sinking into the soft, fluffy mound. “watch the tail.”
he can’t see it, but he knows theo is grinning. “i would never, your lordship,” theo says, and acoite can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or genuine earnest. he doesn’t bother asking. he lazily shuffles over, bumping his head into theo’s thigh, giving a purr of contentment when theo scratches his head, right behind the ear.
the first time theo had done that, acoite had threatened to take his hand off and strike him down that instant. but theo is theo, and he is anything if not persistent, and unfortunately it did feel good. so before long, acoite had had to swallow his pride and accept the scratches, humiliating as it was. sometimes he would even fall asleep there, drifting in and out of slumber as theo carried him to the ‘bed’.
during this, theo would say nothing, only smile softly and look down at him like he was the only person that existed in the world. it was…almost an honour, to be looked at with such reverence, devotion, adoration, and love all at once.
pathetic , he thought. i’m an eldritch horror turned god, i have a cult and a church, and i melt when a human looks at me.
said “human” is also a god, a tiny, irritating voice reminded him.
same difference.
while he was thinking, the scratches behind his ears had turned to gentle strokes of his hair, and the tv was not on, playing some shitty romantic flick from who-knows-when. acoite can barely hear the words. it’s all slurring together. he’s just about to close his eyes.
however, he’s awake enough to feel two hands on his head now, one still petting his hair, the other under his cheek, prying it out of the cushions. his cheek and the top of his head feel chilly, and he half opens one eye only to have his face smushed into theo’s thighs.
“isn’t that better?” theo says, still stroking his hair. acoite doesn’t respond. yes, the tiny, irritating voice pipes up. acoite mentally swats it away.
“mm,” he says in lieu of an answer. he closes his eyes again. theo’s thighs are warm and he smells like incense and dish soap. the cloth of his pyjamas are soft against acoite’s cheek, and he hears rustling as theodore pulls a soft blanket over him, draping it over his chest.
the warmth, the soft chatter of the tv, and the soft hands still gliding through his hair finally lull him to deep sleep. as he drifts out, he thinks he hears theodore say something to him. he can’t hear it, but he’ll have to ask in the morning. if he remembers.
when acoite wakes up, the first thing he notices is that it’s still dark outside. the second thing he notices is that the tv is still on. peeling his face off of theodore’s thighs, he yawns, stretching, and he feels his back pop and crackle into place. the glow of the tv is enough to illuminate his surroundings.
he rubs his eyes, then looks to the table with their clock. the glowing red numbers on the clock read 3:43 a.m. theo must have fallen asleep not long ago.
acoite turns his head back around to find theo slumped over, and he shuffles closer. his glasses are still on. “foolish…” acoite mumbles, reaching out and sliding them off. he sets them on the table. “and turn this off too,” he says, taking the remote and pressing down on the red power button. the tv screen goes dark, whatever romance-comedy-horror thing that was playing immediately shutting off. now, the only light is the glow of the digital clock that now displays 3:44 a.m.
theo usually would have woken up by now, but he’s completely passed out, not even moving an inch. he’ll wake up with a crick in his neck if he’s still slumped over like that, so acoite—out of the kindness and generosity that has unfortunately blossomed in his formerly cold, dead heart—takes the opportunity to manoeuvre him, shifting his body until he’s safely snuggled into the sheets. acoite hears a sigh escape theo, almost as if he can feel every second of this.
“you’re lucky i care about you,” he grumbles. theo doesn’t respond.
it’s unfortunate how much acoite has grown to love theo. from simply being a priest and a god with an unconventional relationship to being…
…he doesn’t quite know what they are. theo had said “we’ll figure it out as we go.” for being the god of clarity, he sure was damn vague half the time. the closest answer he had gotten from the internet was that they were in a ‘situationship’. whatever that meant.
but something he does know is that he loves theo more than anything. he doesn’t hate admitting it as much as he claims he does. they have countless eternities together to figure it out as they go.
he glances over at theo’s sleeping figure. like this, with his limbs limp, mouth slightly open, chest rising and falling, you’d never be able to tell that he was a god. and what kind of god was one that fell asleep with his glasses on with the tv still on?
“what would you do without me?” he remarks, a little haughtily, but it doesn’t matter because it’s true.
slowly, he leans down and presses his lips to the corner of theo’s mouth. his hair falls against theo’s face in a curtain of midnight. the crickets outside chirp, the moonlight streams in through the window like a river of light. his eyelashes flutter against theo’s face like butterflies flapping their wings in springtime.
i love you.
he doesn’t need to say it. acoite lifts his head from theo’s face and instead snuggles next to him, resting his head on his chest. he feels theo’s chest rise and fall, a sign of his underlying humanity. he closes his eyes.
before falling back asleep, he takes one final look at theo’s resting face, so peaceful you could mistake him for dead. it’s…oddly cute.
theodore will surely tease him about this in the morning. but that’s a problem for the acoite of the future.
he closes his eyes.