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It always started with a tingling sensation. Lycaon had heard of phantom pain as a teen, though nothing specific, and he certainly hadn't imagined it would ever apply to him. And yet here he was in the present day, down two shins and feet with the permanent curse of pain hanging around his neck. At least from what he'd been told by doctors over the years he'd got lucky. His pain had at first felt like an ethereal mauling his lower legs, flesh tearing from bone under sharp jagged teeth, the sensation attacking him over a dozen times a year, but after two years or so it had started to ramp down. Nowadays it hit maybe five times a year instead, and the feeling was more akin to the worst pins and needles sensation one could imagine. It was manageable as long as he could find a way to avoid walking while the feeling lasted. Lycaon could be shopping, in a Hollow, at a client's house, anywhere, and it could start at any time. He'd have about fifteen minutes to craft an excuse as to why he should be seated for the remainder of the day before it would hit. If he was lucky and he got the warning sensations early enough in the day, he could tell his employees that he would be taking the day to do paperwork, so he could sit at his desk in his quarters for the day while still being productive. All of them were very understanding of the situation, even if Lycaon had never let them see him in such pain.
Today was one such day, where he'd cooped himself up in his study to get through the small stack of paperwork that had amassed on his desk. He liked to do this sort of thing in bulk, so the pain hitting as infrequently as it did had its upsides. All he had to do was keep his legs absolutely still while he filled in boxes and stamped his signature on dotted lines. Not the most thrilling of jobs, but someone had to do it, and all the maids were out doing their own work for the day. That, and a day spent inside was nice once in a while. It was rare a day passed without him having to be out for at least some hours of the day, whether that be because he was working, or shopping, or driving, or exercising. A small frown made its way onto his face as he remembered that because of his pain he wouldn't be able to work out. Rest was important, but he thrived off having a set schedule, or at least a rough outline of his day. His pain had thrown it all off. He grumbled to himself while slipping some paper into an envelope. A cup of tea would be nice right around now, but the burning static in his shins hadn't subsided whatsoever, keeping his feet firmly rooted to the floor unable to move. He knew that if he even attempted to stand up his nonexistent nerves would punish him.
His phone was in reach, at least. He'd been working along to only the sound of the rain outside pattering against the balcony for a while now, so he figured that he may as well put on some music to try to distract his brain. Maybe if one of his favourite songs came on his synapses would conveniently forget that they were making him feel like shit. The thought got a rueful chuckle out of him. If only it worked like that. Neurological as the problem was, it wasn't that simple. Nothing ever was. His depressing train of thought only served to sour his mood while he halfheartedly scrolled through his playlist options. His taste in music wasn't anything extraordinary- as one would expect of an attendant of his calibre, he was quite fond of classical music for being productive. There was a playlist comprised almost entirely of slow jazzy tracks that was reserved for late nights with his partner, who also had access to it so they could curate it together. Said partner loved to rib him about picking songs that had a tempo too fast for smooth lovemaking, yet would never take them off. The third playlist was his workout one. Contrary to the usual high octane EDM picks other gym goers had, Lycaon used his time at the gym as an excuse to listen to hard rock, punk, and metal tracks. That preference of his had never left since his teen years. The final playlist was where anything that didn't fit into those other categories went.
After some deliberation in his head, he put on the gym one. While he couldn't move at the moment, he was in the mood to listen to something angry, something loud, something he could mouth along with and nod his head to while clearing out the remaining papers in front of him. Some fiddling with the speaker on his desk was required to get his phone to pair to it- he was an attendant with countless skills under his belt, including tech support, but wireless technology never failed to be a stubborn adversary. Thankfully after that nuisance it worked just fine, though the moment a song came on it blasted at full volume through the speaker, making him jump and send a shooting pain from his foot up his spine. "Agh-!" He scowled and cursed under his breath while mashing the volume down button. The rain combined with the heavy guitar of the song felt like they were mocking him. All he could do was pinch his brow with the other fist clenched and wait for the shock to subside. It ebbed away like the tide, the slow retreat of a force of nature that was still a looming threat. The moment his hand stopped quivering, he picked up his pen once more and tried to laser focus on the document in front of him. He just needed to distract himself fully, and the uncomfortable static sensation would shift to the back of his mind. Not gone, but in the periphery of his conscience, out of the way, at least.
Or it would have been, if not for one thing after another rudely reminding his brain to torture him. From the glass door that led out to the balcony a familiar rhythm of knuckles rapping against the surface made him, once again, jump from surprise and let out a long whine of suffering as that harsh sensation of pins and needles once again shot up his legs. After bearing the brunt of the pain he slowly turned around in his chair to see a very familiar, albeit disheveled and sodden figure standing there gesturing at the door.
"This is rather embarrassing, but I left my lockpick in there last time I swung by and I started this journey under the assumption it was still in my pocket. Mind inviting a vampire in, my dearest partner?"
Why the hell was he out in the spring rain with seemingly no umbrella and not even a change of clothes? And why, of all times he visited, did he have to be unable to open the door himself this specific time? The thiren took a deep breath in while standing up. He could take it. He'd been taking it for years. It would only be a few seconds. The happiness he felt on seeing his partner and having him in his quarters would outdo the agony of walking to the door. It was worth it. His jaw clenched tightly shut, fangs grinding hard against one another as he made slow strides towards the door. Every single one was a special kind of hell, one he'd been hoping to avoid for the entire duration of the episode. And yet, from years of practice, his gait was able to mask his discomfort regardless, his prosthetics calibrated to his balance and helping him remain completely steady. His grip on the door handle as he slid it open was white knuckled, not that that was visible with all of his fur in the way. He managed a small nod to welcome Hugo in as he sauntered in like a cat.
Hugo's pale features perked up as soon as he entered the room and his ears recognised what he was listening to. This particular song had been a staple of Lycaon's old listening habits as a teen, since it had been included in a CD Hugo pilfered during a getaway and then gifted to him. He'd had no idea Lycaon still listened to tracks like this. If he'd known, he would've given him recommendations that weren't just for their shared intimate playlist. "Well well well, we keep talking about how much we've changed, but really, you're the same as ever, aren't you?" He cooed with a large grin. It was rare he got a new nugget of information about his partner like this, since he'd already mapped out and explored most of the similarities and differences he'd missed out on over the years. When he felt a droplet of water fall from his hair onto his shoe, he hummed, his train of thought detailed. "Speaking of changing, can I borrow a dressing gown?" He got a nod from the thiren. Had he caught him at a nonverbal time? He'd poke him about that once he returned from changing out of his drenched clothes.
After the thief blew him a kiss, which Lycaon caught and placed atop his chest, he left the room, leaving the thiren to immediately hurl himself at his bed to relieve the pressure from his legs. After listening to make sure Hugo was out of earshot, he grabbed a pillow to bury his maw into so he could snarl and growl to vent his pain and frustration without alerting the other man to his condition. It would pass. It always did. Surely this wave of the episode would end soon and he'd be able to fix himself some lunch and spend some quality time with his partner before it came back. His primal noises of anger swiftly fizzled out into pathetic canine whimpers and whines while he clung onto the pillow. While the pain itself had lessened over time, the desperate frustration that came with it never decreased. The feeling of one day being completely fine and capable, and the next barely even being able to walk- it was a gut punch like nothing else. There was movement outside the door. Lycaon would need to roll over onto his back and sit up before Hugo came back in the room. Rolling over would require... moving his legs. In the few seconds he hesitated, trying to buckle himself up for another brief moment of awful discomfort, it became too late. Hugo waltzed back into the room and he could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he observed his position.
"I'll have to say, you've propositioned me in sexier ways." He mused before padding in closer to the man. The joke filled the silence as he examined his partner's position. He wasn't turning his head to look at him, meaning there was something about his expression he didn't want him to see. He was holding a pillow, which wasn't entirely unusual for when he was lying on his front, but could also indicate his hands were worth concealing too. His entire body remained stock still, even his tail. The tail was the most damning piece of evidence. After a half flirt half joke like that, one would expect at least the slightest swish from the appendage to indicate his amusement. Keeping his movements slow and composed, he seated himself beside the wolf, running his eyes up and down his body once more before he next spoke. "Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?"
The thiren sighed. Hugo's voice was soft, casting a line to him. He could choose to take it, or the thief would find a way to weasel the information out of him. One thing was for certain, and it was that Hugo would never stop until he found out what was wrong. He truly admired his determination sometimes, even if half the time it ended up making him seem extremely irritating. "I was hoping it would never bother you. I only have a few episodes a year, so I hoped..." he trailed off as a hand started rubbing behind his ears. It felt like his entire body eased up slightly on feeling the contact, a warm feeling rising in his chest. "...mm."
A low chuckle. "And this elusive 'it' is...?" From the terminology used, it sounded like some sort of medical condition that had been affecting Lycaon for a while. They had been together for how long and this hairball hadn't told him this? The moment he was feeling better Hugo wouldn't let him hear the end of this.
"Are you familiar with phantom pain?" Lycaon supposed he may as well be upfront, now that he was temporarily bound to his bed and his partner was watching over him. When his back was being watched by Hugo, it didn't feel threatening, it didn't raise his hackles- it made him ease into the sheets below him, knowing the man would do almost anything to make sure that the only thing that could ever torment his blind spots was him.
"Not personally, but I've heard plenty about it." As part of the redistribution of the value of Mockingbird's heists, he made a lot of donations to foundations and charities and the like that dealt in all kinds of problems. One in particular he was a recurring donor to was an amputee support group. Not for any particular reason. He just thought their cause was noble. Mismatched eyes drifted down Lycaon's body to his prosthetics.
"These were supposed to be advanced enough to ease the effects, but since my case was so..." for a moment, he struggled to find the right words. Hugo still bore some guilt for what had happened to him, even if he knew the past couldn't be changed and Lycaon was, all in all, quite alright with having his mechanical enhancements. "...high adrenaline, it seemed there was some correlation between that fact and how intense it was. It's become more manageable over time."
Realisation washed over Hugo's face. "You- you walked over to let me in, you idiot. I could have scrounged for a hairpin to pick the lock. I'm sure Corin's dropped plenty."
He was correct. Corin managed to lose a lot of hairpins on her way to work. All he could do was let out another sigh through his nose. "And make you stay out in the rain?"
"Yes. I was already soaked to the skin, another minute or so wouldn't have done me in."
Finally Lycaon's head turned on the pillow so he could face Hugo, taking in the domestic handsomeness of how his hair was wet and let down and he was sitting on the bed in one of Lycaon's fluffy robes. "You look good in that." He mused, letting a paw rest on one of his thighs.
Mismatched eyes met the red one eyeing him up with a flattered but still cocky glint. "I know. If nothing else, I hope the eye candy serves as a distraction."
"Mm, it does-" Lycaon tried to lean across to nuzzle into his partner's lap, but found that his shins retaliated against the slight movement with a harsh lash of pain. It made his jaw snap shut, cutting off the rest of his sentence with a grunt.
The thief couldn't bear to watch this continue. "Stop moving. You're only making it flare up more."
"I know. I've dealt with worse. And this may surprise you, but I truly enjoy your company. I want to enjoy my time with you in spite of... this."
"And you can, just-" Hugo pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He could go for the throat and insult the thiren, but that would hardly be fair in his condition. There would be no satisfaction in it. "If you're willing to risk me making everything worse, I think there's something I can try."
"Hugo." Lycaon smiled softly up at him. "When has that ever stopped me from saying yes?"
Hugo shot daggers at the other man with his glare. "Shut up and rethink your self preservation instincts." There was a brief bout of silence as he slowly moved himself down the bed so he was in line with the wolf's legs. "And relax your muscles, and take deep breaths."
Lycaon let his eye flutter shut as he tried his best to do as asked. His entire body was tense from anticipating the next bout of pins and needles, so it was an immediate relief to address that, much like unfurrowing one's brow after a long period of time. He internally decided on a rhythm for his breathing and did his best to follow it while Hugo observed him. Those mismatched eyes were boring holes into his back, making sure he was doing as he was told. Just to mess with him, Lycaon raised his tail and let it hang over the man's shoulders like a scarf. That earned him a little peck on the appendage before a hand descended onto his thigh. The touch was feather light, exploratory, checking for any sort of reaction before running down his leg to just below his knee, where flesh met metal. Oddly, it didn't hurt, it didn't trigger any sort of discomfort, it just felt... normal. He supposed this was the neurological side of things showing.
"Anything?"
"I believe I was told to shut up."
Hugo had to try his damndest to suppress a growl. "I'm serious, Lycaon." There was a brief moment of tense silence between the two men in which Hugo quickly composed himself. "I know making light of this is easy for you. Heavens know I make enough light of my newfound sensitivity to sunlight. But as it stands I'm about to try something that might make you hurt more, and I need you to tell me if anything feels wrong. For both of our sakes."
An ashamed noise crawled its way out of Lycaon's throat. He was so used to covering up his discomfort when his episodes started so as to not worry Rina and the girls, it was a habit he slipped into all too easily. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't-" Hugo groaned. "Okay, fine, I accept your unnecessary apology." Another peck, this time bedgrudging, was given to the tail rubbing up against his cheek. "Back to the topic at hand, if you please."
"That doesn't hurt."
"Thank you." Both hands then made contact with Lycaon's thigh, gently cupping it between both of them, thumbs starting to gently press together into the back of the muscular limb. The digits moved in small circular motions while the hands moved down along the length of the thigh, reaching the knee with not even a noise from the thiren. While he wasn't a professional in either the medical or massage fields, he'd picked up enough from his time talking to members of the amputee support group to know that massage therapy could help during an episode. And conveniently, he'd picked up some masseuse knowledge from going undercover in a spa as Mockingbird. The level to which it helped varied from person to person, as these things did, but as long as there was a small glimmer of hope, Hugo saw no point in ignoring the option. His pinky fingers made first contact with hard, cold metal, hesitating for a brief moment before his hands slid over the frame of the prosthetic and started rubbing it too.
"That-" Lycaon was half tempted to lean up on his arms to look around at his partner, but knew that that may risk breaking whatever illusion had been created. The thief had stopped, he could feel his concerned gaze landing on the back of his head. "No, don't stop. Ahem- please." His ears twitched when they picked up the ever so quiet sound of a satisfied hum after he had said 'please'. "I... feel that."
Hugo deliberated over what to say for a moment. Quick as his mind and tongue both were, this was an important decision. He could speak completely matter of factly, lay out the probable cause for the sensation, or he could take an alternate route. If his past conversations with those kind people didn't fail him now, he was making the right choice. "Of course you do. I'm graciously massaging you."
"I shouldn't feel that."
"Remember your breathing, lover boy." The brain had to be tricked into believing the leg was there, even if just temporarily. That was the methodology behind mirror therapy, hence it made sense that the logic followed through. "Am I going too soft?"
Baffled, but not hating the feeling of his calf being caressed by his partner, Lycaon hummed. "No, that's just right." With each little circle made by his thumbs, hands slowly going up and down his leg, it was like the static below his knee was being dispersed. Slowly but surely, it trickled out of him to the point where he was able to curl the point of his foot without issue. Behind him Hugo caught on that his ministrations were helping, leading him to sneak in a cheeky grab of his ass after his thumbs had rubbed all the way up his thigh from his ankle. Lycaon would voice an objection to the tease any other time, try to return fire in any way he could, but he didn't have it in him. The relief that was flooding his body was too overwhelming, and the job was only half done. He could smother him with affection later. "Hngh..."
"I'll take that as a glowing endorsement of my plans to open a massage parlour as my new side gig?" His thumbs pressed hard into Lycaon's flesh, working the muscle, easing it, making the man shudder from his handiwork.
Lycaon laughed, low and hearty, more freely than he'd been able to all day. "I would reserve every timeslot."
"Having you bare and face down in front of me all day? Don't threaten me with a good time." Despite being able to flirt and joke, Hugo's expression was filled with concern, not that he'd let his partner see it. Lycaon's voice was tinged with a relief that was coming from his core. How many years had he bottled up his pain, suffered on his own, shutting himself off from the others so he could try to reduce the amount of flare-ups he had and wait for it to pass? Maybe the paperwork got done, but at what cost? He shuffled over to the other side of the bed, beginning to work on Lycaon's other leg. "Once we're done here, I'll send you the contact details of a specialist. You will save that number, and you will organise an appointment next time. I'm good, of course, but I can only do so much, and I'm not always available. Am I understood?"
"Yes." He wouldn't ask how Hugo had obtained such a contact. It felt like he always knew someone who knew someone who was perfect for his needs at any given time. His web of connections and informants was wider than even he could imagine. "You are. Though it won't feel the same."
"Ah yes, because me taking copious handfuls of your rear is essential to this treatment."
"Your approach to patient care is unique. My doctors don't typically tell me to shut up and grope me."
Hugo had to remove his hands for a moment so he could cackle at that. Their position really did sound absurdly twisted when deliberately painted in the worst possible light like that. "You've been scenting me this entire time." To that, Lycaon's tail, which had been not so subtly rubbing itself all over Hugo's body the entire time, froze up momentarily. Caught red-handed.
The wolf cleared his throat. "Touché." It was so strange how he could feel Hugo's hands applying pressure to his calf. The sensation was dull compared to when his thumbs were digging into the meat of his flesh, and he couldn't feel any temperature coming from his hands, but it was undeniable that he felt how he squeezed and rubbed below his knee. When was the last time he'd received a full leg massage? Typically he kept treatments to his upper body. He himself was in the middle of learning different styles of massage, including the tough love approach of the Waifei style, but he'd never felt anything like Hugo's touch. Perhaps it was because of the context, because of their connection. Hugo would never touch another soul like this, only him. His hands were so familiar with the limits of his body in a variety of contexts, hence they knew exactly what made him tick, exactly where to start and stop, how much pressure to apply and how to examine his body's responses for feedback. "Where did you learn this?" He asked with genuine curiosity.
Hugo chuckled, walking fingers up Lycaon's spine while his head cocked to the side so he could eye him up. The wolf was perfectly relaxed under his gaze, chin nestled into the pillow like a dog receiving its pats. "It was for an alias during a heist. If I divulge any more than that, I'd be giving away trade secrets."
A hum. "Did you actually have to give a massage while undercover?"
"Indeed I did. And-" he feigned a scandalised gasp. "-it was to a thiren man."
Lycaon snorted. "I have to assume he didn't receive this..." his breathing hitched when Hugo's knuckles dug into his hips, kneading out the tension in them. "...special treatment?"
"I don't know. Did he? Like I said, I can't tell you much about the operation."
There was no hiding the grin in his voice. Hugo was just trying to wind him up, even the slightest bit, despite both men knowing that jealousy would never be possible between them when it was so horrifyingly clear that they only had eyes for each other, and had been that way since they'd been impulsive puberty stricken teens. Hugo couldn't even remember what species the man in question had been, and hadn't bothered to lie to make it more interesting.
"How are your legs?"
Hugo's voice had suddenly taken on a slightly more serious edge as he ran a hand down his thigh. When it came to the wounds the two has suffered after the split, Hugo's being mostly emotional and Lycaon's being mostly physical, each one still attributed the blame to themself. Hugo always hesitated when the thiren's legs came up, even if just for a split second. His large fluffy tail ran along the thief's side to assure him. "Better. So much better. I could never have asked the girls or Rina to help in this way-"
"Yes, yes, I get why you cooped yourself up in here with your tail between your legs, no need to go over it." Hugo barely withheld a scoff as his cheeks started heating up at the sound of Lycaon's warm, gentle, grateful tone. A palm rested itself on his ass cheek, taking in how nicely rounded it was. There was no further intent behind the touch, simply admiration of the handsome physique he had all to himself. "And please, I beg you, stop bringing them up when we're in compromising positions."
"Ah- sorry." Finally the wolf felt confident enough in his mobility to roll over onto his back, slowly and cautiously. When his legs moved there was a dull static sensation near the soles of his feet, but other than that the movement was free of issues. A sigh punched its way out of his lungs. "I haven't felt this relieved in years."
Preening at the indirect praise, Hugo was about to launch into gloating when he was suddenly whisked downwards by his partner into a tight embrace. "Agh-! I should lop off your arms so you stop doing that." He hissed, though his dissatisfaction was short lived when met with the warm fluffiness of his partner's chest and the secure feeling the muscular arms gave him with their hold- a hold that stayed firm and tight but would release the moment he said a word.
"So you want me to handle you with even stronger arms?" While he would much rather not lose any more body parts in his lifetime, he couldn't deny that his prosthetics had massively benefitted his speed, strength, and general combat prowess. If it were to happen again, at least he would be a lot more familiar with the process the second time around. A paw spread wide over the soft pale skin of Hugo's back underneath the robe he wore. No, he swiftly decided. He did not want to entertain the thought of losing the ability to feel his lover so intimately. "I would much rather stay like this."
Feeling the gentle tap of claws against his skin, Hugo let out a long hum as if he were thinking about what the other man had said. "It would be unsporting if I were to do it now. But if it will be anyone, it will be me. Got that, lapdog?"
Lycaon smiled. He supposed 'don't let anyone else hack off your remaining limbs' was not the most standard way of expressing affection, but nothing about his relationship with Hugo could be classed as standard. "While that is rather out of my control, I will try my best to adhere to it."
"Good." After a small moment of comfortable silence where the two men nuzzled into one another, Hugo's lips curled up in a playful grin. "I believe its standard tradition to give one's patient a treat when they're leaving the clinic? As a reward for being such a brave boy?"
"Hugo." Lycaon deadpanned instantly. The look he shot the side of his head did nothing to stop the thief now that he had started talking.
"I think it would be very appropriate. You were such a well behaved pooch. Do you want a sticker? Or maybe-"
Lycaon's body went into autopilot in response to Hugo's taunting. A hand raised, wound up, and delivered an almighty smack to Hugo's rear through the robe, hard enough to make him choke on his next words and gape in a combination of scandalised horror and arousal. "Next time, I'm sending you back outside into the rain without your clothes."
The thief took an extra moment to gawk in offense at the man, sitting up to straddle him while meeting his unforgiving gaze with his own determined glare. "I don't think you realise how lucky you are that you just got done having a medical episode, or so help me, Lycaon, I would be swiftly making it so that you would not be able to feel those legs to have phantom pain in the first place."
"You're mistaken. I realise fully the situation I'm in. Were you not the one who kept telling me back in the day to exploit every chance I get?"
Hugo scoffed at the sheer audacity being thrown at him. If he was honest with himself, this was only making the arousal in his gut burn brighter. Oh, how he loved it when his wolf bared his fangs. "I was going to make you a meal as a special bonus after your treatment, but since your legs seem to be working just as well as your mouth currently is, it seems I don't need to bother any more."
"Then I'll make myself something."
"Yes, exactly. You do that."
"I'll make you something too."
"What-"
"Would you like pork stir fry?"
Hugo's mouth opened to say some kind of retort, then closed. A long drawn out sigh escaped through his nose while Lycaon's stupid tail wagged away in his peripheral vision. He pinned him down with his gaze as fuzzy hands dipped under the edges of the robe to pet his thighs. "Let me take over if your legs start to go again."
"Of course." After a small squeeze of reassurance, Hugo seemed content with the arrangement and so pulled himself off Lycaon's lap to sit down on the sheets beside him. The thiren sat up, still mildly cautious about sudden movements, and pulled his partner closer by his waist so he could take a gentle hold of his jaw and tilt his head into a warm kiss. Lips slid over one another in a slow and steady rhythm, parting for small intakes of breath before slotting back together in a slow dance of affection. From how warm Hugo's face was getting beneath his touch, the man was allowing himself to indulge in the syrupy feeling of having taken care of his partner, even if by the end of the day he'd be right back to poking fun at him as part of their routine of affectionate banter. He was half tempted to ask Hugo to cook this once, since his cooking was a delight to eat, but he knew that the man would never let him hear the end of it if he did.
"You really give me no chance to miss you, do you?" It was mused with a sly smirk after the two had pulled away, still so close that their breaths were touching each other's faces. "Go. I need to properly freshen up after being rained on."
Lycaon let himself playfully lick Hugo's cheek in a canine kiss before finally pulling himself out of his personal space. "I bought new moisturiser, if you wish to try it. It's the one you mentioned last week."
After a disgruntled grumble at the saliva on his cheek, Hugo hummed. "I might just do that." Mismatched eyes watched closely as the thiren rose to his feet with understandable unsteadiness. When a tense few seconds passed with no incident, both men released relieved exhales, Hugo's much quieter than Lycaon's. "Shout if you need me to catch you as you fall like a knight in shining armour for a swooning maiden."
"Yes, Hugo." And so the two parted, even if the distance was only one or two rooms apart. Lycaon didn't know how long Hugo intended on staying, but even if he was going to eat and then had to excuse himself for other business, the time spent with him would be fulfilling all the same.