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“How, how—?” Arthur stuttered in outrage.
Kayne giggled. “And Arthur? Gooooooood luck!”
The thing about having so many of his own voice in his head was that sometimes it was hard to tell when it was his thoughts, when it was their thoughts, when it was intrusive thoughts, and how did they even have room to get in there anyway?
Just stay.
Why was that impulse so tempting?
But he was a being of impulse. Despite his penchant for schemes nothing was worth doing if there wasn’t a little bit of improvisation.
And he did his scheme. Made his little threats that he wouldn’t need to carry out. Made his little offer to John who fell for it, hook line and sinker, (who needs a lure when you have a sucker?), and dropped the boys off in the 1300s-sh in a storm.
And something in him said ‘just stay’ as Arthur’s eyes got wider and wider, the realisation and panic setting in.
And how could Kayne ever resist that face? It was a good face, maybe by human standards, but also by his. Expressive. Kayne liked expressiveness. The other gods rendered humans bloodily. They tore flesh and broke psyches. None of them had his subtlety. Violence was a tool, physiological damage was an art.
And making other people do it for you? A symphony.
“Ohhhhhh,” he shook in irrepressible temptation. “Why the hell not?”
He snapped again and he stood beside Arthur holding a large red umbrella over their heads. It was the only bright colour against the gray landscape. A field of washed out colour blurred more by the rain. Just the umbrella and the flecks of red covering both of them.
“W-what?” Arthur didn’t seem to expect him to heed his call. Kayne didn’t expect it either, most of him, some of him? He was in charge though and he decided he liked this. Captain of his fate, master of his soul and all that. The rain pattered against the umbrella’s nylon.
“How do you expect—?” Arthur began, pulling his thoughts together.
Kayne reached over with his free hand and pressed his finger over Arthur’s lips. “No shop talk right now. We’re enjoying a moment.”
Arthur scowled at him. “What moment?” he asked, his lovely lips brushing against Kayne’s bloody fingers, staining them red.
He almost stuck his finger in his mouth to see if he would bite it.
“Why’d you take my hand, Arthur?” he asked instead. “You can tell me.”
“I thought you wanted us to—”
He did pop a finger in this time, and yes, Arthur automatically bit down. Without hesitation, absolutely vicious. Kayne caught him by the jaw and gently, but firmly held it so that he could prevent removal. Arthur obediently opened his mouth and Kayne was released.
Kayne was giggling.
There were pleasant sparklers of ‘he’s cute’ and ‘mine’ and ‘drive him insane’ and ‘bite him back’ which were all close enough in emotion that he didn’t have a splitting headache for once.
Arthur was trying to step out of the protection of the umbrella, but that wouldn’t do.
“If you go, then John comes back and then you have to deal with all the fallout. Wouldn’t you rather have a minute to compose yourself?” he grinned. Several of himselves reminded himself that Arthur can’t fucking see.
Fuck off the grin was implied.
"Wouldn't you like a break, love?"
And Arthur hesitated, realising there was no huffy voice in his head providing commentary.
“John?” he asked cautiously.
“Let Goldilocks get his beauty sleep,” Kayne said. It wasn't that he disliked John. John was a barrel of laughs, but right now? No. No John. Not right now.
Just them.
Arthur wasn’t impressed. “Oh, is this where you offer me a side deal now?”
That was a good idea.
But no.
Oh, but yes.
“Ten minutes under the umbrella, just you and me, no John to make three. You can have some private time to panic for once. No shop talk. You tell me why you took my hand.”
“Private time to panic?” Arthur asked with a furrowed brow. He had lost his hat, his hair was a mess, and there was blood splatter across his face that the rain was going to wash off once he was drenched in it. His little pencil mustache was still neat, but Kayne knew it wasn’t going to last. Too bad, it suited him.
Usually mortals got uncomfortable when he stared so closely for so long—blind. Right, right.
“I mean... okay, yes, yes, I’m always watching, but wouldn’t you like a little break from him? One where you’re not about to die?”
“You’re the one that caused this!” Arthur hissed.
“Taking my deal or not, dearheart?” Kayne raised his hand, a threat that it could end at any second. He realised again that Arthur was fucking blind and rolled his eyes at himself.
“Just stay,” Arthur said before pressure could be applied. He wrapped his arms around himself, staying in the circle of the umbrella beside him.
Kayne, most of him, was delighted. Some of him didn't understand concepts like umbrellas so they had no input.
He wrapped his arm around Arthur’s shoulders, expected an attempted shrug off, but Arthur stood still.
Instead, he breathed in and out very deliberately. He was trembling, but not from Kayne funny enough. Rather than go tense he went lax, almost leaning into him, eyes tightly shut.
Oh that was weird and wonderful.
And then, without prompting:
“I thought you’d finally tell me what you want with me,” Arthur admitted.
“And didn’t I?”
“Hm,” Arthur went quiet again.
“Are you disappointed?” Kayne prodded.
Arthur was pleasantly warm. Kayne made his body temperature match and Arthur leaned in just that much closer.
“I’m stubborn, but you already had me the moment you lured me with her music box,” Arthur said tightly.
Had him. Yes. He liked that.
“You said: ‘If Arthur knew I wanted him here he wouldn’t do it.’ Right? But that isn’t true. All you had to do was threaten her. Sweeten the deal by mentioning Larson’s ties to it. You already had a carrot and stick. You didn't need John lying to me. This is another trap. Another misdirection. I don’t doubt your threats, but I do doubt your endgame.”
Kayne laughed.
Arthur flinched, but settled after it was done.
“I do like you, you know that, Arthur?” Kayne rubbed his cheek against him for emphasis.
What a wonderfully complicated expression on that human face of his.
“I feel such a… resonance with you,” Kayne continued. Middle C Arthur, special like him, but in a way he couldn't quite figure out. It felt good though. It felt like— “No, no, not resonance, a harmony. I’m a musician too, you know—well of course you do, I’ve already serenaded you once. My actual instrument is the flute, but I’m multi-talented.”
“Flutists do need a lot of air,” Arthur muttered under his breath and Kayne’s joyous burst of laughter was uncontainable.
“Arthur! We obviously need to get rid of your third wheel more often if you have jokes!”
Arthur seemed annoyed with both himself and Kayne. He still wasn’t trying to pull away. It was the annoyance a lover gets when their partner is being intolerable.
What an interesting thought.
And then some of him, most of him realised.
“Oh, you do feel it too, don’t you?” Kayne asked. Arthur’s expressive face betrayed him. Mostly shame and a little longing.
“Do you hear it?” Kayne whispered in his ear.
Arthur shuddered.
Arthur, broken time and time again. He kept himself, his mind throughout. Stepping out on the edge, crying and screaming, but never actually succumbing to it. Never giving himself completely over to it.
But it was all loss. Loss and loss and loss.
Maybe madness had a sweetness to it. Maybe it wasn’t that Arthur was strong, maybe it was that he was too ashamed to let himself have the relief.
To be safe in the arms of a loving lunacy that could never be taken away: Kayne, a composer of insanity crafting the sweetest lullabies for Azathoth’s continued slumber.
Kayne appealed to Arthur in a way he didn’t want to admit.
“Yes,” Arthur admitted just as their ten minutes ended.
‘MINE’ ‘Keep’ ‘Just stay!’ ‘Ours’ ‘Bite’ ‘Hold’ 'Beloved' ‘Harmonzie’—
It was very hard for a being like Kayne to know himself at any given time, but everything clicked. An up tempo. A new page of music. Allegro.
He knew exactly what he wanted Arthur for, and he would do it. He was the only one that could do it… and Arthur didn't need to know, the defiant creature that he was.
But after…
They were going to make some sweet music together when this was all over.
That's what he wanted, and maybe it was exactly what Arthur wanted too.
He really was the specialest boy in the multiverse. Both of them were.
He dropped the umbrella, grabbed Arthur’s face and kissed him hard, the rain immediately soaking them both. Arthur responded. Surprised, and biting, and leaning in for more.
Kayne pulled back. Arthur’s eyes were wide. A rainbow of emotions in spectrums humans couldn’t even see.
“Time’s up,” he admitted reluctantly. He snapped his fingers and was gone from Arthur’s and John’s perceptions.
“Kayne! Kayne, god damn it!” Arthur grunted in frustration. He put his fingers to his lips.
He’s gone, Arthur.
Arthur stiffened, realised he wasn’t alone anymore.
“Kayne, you s—”
He’s gone. The gateway he opened—
Arthur was still furiously looking around, cocking his ear trying to hear him, but then his ire was drawn back to John.
Kayne left them to it.
He licked his lips. They would have to try that again, wouldn’t they?
Next time he would stay for longer.