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Jingran swiftly tugs Rover back by his arm to pull him behind him and levels the blade of his spear against the stranger. As if attuned to the hostility permeating the air of the ruins, the midnight green light cast by his lantern dances ominously against the jagged surface of slanting stones, illuminating the cruel curve of Jingran’s smile and the distant silhouette of a man he doesn't recognize.
It's only because of his heightened visual perception that he sees it at all: the pale color of a long coat, a glimmer of silver and gold dangling from his hip, and the neat polish of black leather as the stranger takes a step forward.
When the lower half of his face finally comes into view, Jingran realizes that the unnamed man is smiling back at him. Not because Jingran is, but because it's permanently set into his features.
That same smile turns frigid when he notices the visibly biting curl of Jingran’s fingers around Rover’s arm. Less good-natured and more attentive with a different kind of intention. The dangerous kind that Jingran has grown familiar with in his line of odd work.
He knows Rover, it seems. Possibly even cares about him, judging by the slip in his demeanor. But Jingran would be a fool to attribute that to good intentions.
Through the darkness, the intruder’s red eyes look like deep, gaping wounds, unnaturally bright and gradually filling with blood-soaked malice the longer Jingran's hold stays.
A piercing ache lances through his golden eye at the sight of it, and it pulls a sharp bark of laughter from his throat.
“—Your friend?" It comes out clipped and short, the usual easygoing levity gone from his tone. He’d felt that they had company for a while now, so the man’s 'sudden' appearance isn’t exactly a surprise.
It was Rover’s decision to keep quiet about it that is.
It's not likely that Rover hadn't noticed. The man moved like he had eyes on the back of his head, no doubt trained into him from his many experiences in battle. Jingran might have his sight, but Rover had his intuition.
He should know they've been followed for a while now, and Jingran is proven right when the two of them share a look over his shoulder.
Familiar with each other, then. Not an antagonistic relationship, if Rover’s lack of violent reaction is any sign.
Jingran's hold on his weapon neither loosens nor falters despite the realization as icy teal and pale gold burn brightly with a feral light under the shadow cast by his hood. The man’s relationship with Rover is one thing. That didn’t mean that the same courtesy would be extended to him, especially given the shift in the man's temperament after witnessing his treatment of Rover.
And more importantly... the two of them made a deal. For as long as they were in these ruins, he was supposed to act as Rover's guard and lightkeeper. Regardless of whether Rover knew the man or not, Jingran wasn’t about to start making exceptions now. He liked the idea of Rover needing him to do things for him too much to neglect his self-imposed duties.
If he's lucky enough, and the other man takes the bait of his provocation, Jingran would have a fight. Then he'd have a legitimate reason in Rover's eyes to step in and protect him.
His smile deepens at the mere thought.
"Jingran."
A soft tap on his bare shoulder draws a part of his attention back to the man standing behind him. He deliberately doesn't look back, keeping most of his attention on their little nameless intruder.
"—Jingran," Rover says again, a touch more exasperated, "it's fine. I know him."
He tilts his head, the motion animalistic. It makes his jaw sharper, the line of his neck longer, and his veins prominently bulge.
'That isn't a yes.'
As if realizing the conclusion he'd drawn, Rover foregoes the tapping of his shoulder and reaches over with his free hand to tug him down closer. Jingran’s grip on his arm slips, startled by the proximity when his head turns reflexively only to find Rover inches away from his face, his expression guileless and open.
Almost instantly, the dull ache that had been building in his eye dissipates. Jingran's lips part slightly in surprise without meaning to.
Rover smiles at him, pretty and not knowing any better about what he'd just done for him.
He shakes his head at whatever he sees and explains, "I trust Luuk with my life."
"..."
Jingran's mouth closes. The elation at receiving Rover's smile wanes, and his gaze hollows out.
It’s far more than what he was expecting to receive as an answer. He doesn’t say how he knows him or where he met him.
Just that if it came down to it, he would leave his entire life in that man’s hands.
As far as Jingran knows, it's the worst kind of answer Rover could give him.
The lantern’s electric flame flickers.
‘...Trust, huh.’
That kind of thing...
...it wouldn't be so easy to break.
Jingran's lashes lower slowly. Keeping an eye on 'Luuk' from the edge of his periphery, he leans in close, smiling widely as a predator with its maw bared over the waiting throat of a weakened prey would. He intentionally lets his breath blow over Rover's ear when he speaks, watching closely as the barest tinge of pink spreads over its tip.
It was proof that he isn't unaffected by Jingran. Proof of a chance to be seen as an equal. A companion.
A man.
Just like how he chose to tap him on his shoulder instead of pulling his arm free, and just like how he let Jingran sink his claws into him with only the slightest pained flinch.
It makes something animalistic and greedy in Jingran's chest growl in satisfaction, overwriting the unpleasant sting of Rover’s answer.
"Do you, now? And yet you're unwilling to call him your 'friend'?"
Luuk gives no outward reaction to Jingran's provocative behavior, watching wordlessly with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Should he say he’s well-trained? Or... is it that this has something to do with the 'trust' that Rover has for him?
He's no better than an animal on a leash.
Jingran wishes it were him.
"Giving me mixed signals here, Rover," he whispers, smile slipping into something a little less friendly and politely distant. Something with an eerie, gaping darkness that hides the sharpness of his teeth. "Or is it the kind of relationship you can't disclose?"
His next words end with a grazing brush of his lips against the shell of Rover’s ear. The cartilage is irresistibly soft. It wouldn't take much to tear, he thinks; a clamp of his jaw and a sideward twist of his head, and Rover would bleed for him.
"You can tell me, you know. I’ll keep your secret for you.”
'Trust me, too.'
Jingran has been on his best behavior ever since they stepped foot into the ruins. He played the role of his guard exceptionally well, hasn't he?
Rover can afford to reward him a little. Positive reinforcement trains a good pet to repeat desired behaviors, after all.
And Jingran can be very, very good.
"—Jingran."
He’s suddenly pushed back by a firm hand on his chest.
Jingran eyes it with an empty-eyed smile.
Rover is holding a fist over his mouth in what he assumes is a display of embarrassment, the color that had teased his ears now crawling down his throat in an endearing red.
"I've already told you everything you needed to know." A flustered and delectable tremble shakes his words. "I don't owe you any other explanation. Play nice."
His heterochromatic gaze narrows slightly. Everything, he said, and the only thing he told him is that he is willing to put his life in the other man's hands.
It would be hurtful to his pride as his temporary guard, if not for Rover's apparent hesitation to put a label on what they were to each other. Whatever they had seemed relatively new.
Then again... the shallower the cut, the easier it heals.
And if, by chance, it runs deeper than what his eye can see, then Jingran would happily burn the wound with his flames until it grows numb.
Honestly, if he had it his way, he'd push a little more and see what kind of reactions he could get out of both of them, but the expression on Rover's face tells him he's not willing to play along anymore. Shame.
"Alright, alright, I hear you," Jingran says with faux cheer as he raises his hands in surrender. His weapon dematerializes in a blink. “I’ll stop here."
Rover breathes a sigh of relief, the flush to his skin subsiding. This version of 'Jingran' is clearly more familiar to him. Friendly and laid-back, easy to handle.
By now, he must have picked up on Jingran's thinly veiled volatile temperament, but the lovely thing about Rover is that what would usually terrify others doesn't particularly affect him. He will accept anyone with open arms as long as they don't prove to be a direct obstruction to his goal of confronting the Lament. He will welcome nails on his skin and a bruising hold around his limb because he knows his body can take it.
Surrounded by monsters that harbor an all-consuming desire for him, Rover stands in front of their slavering jaws without fear and willingly promises them his protection. His trust.
For someone who isn't quite human, it's a remarkably ironic human thing to do.
"—Since we're on the subject of playing nice, think you can tell your ‘not-friend’ to stop with the murderous intent? He's not exactly doing a great job of convincing me that he’s harmless."
Jingran lightly taps the side of his eye as a reminder of his sensitivity to hostility. Leverage, for scraps of Rover’s attention.
He’s never claimed to be the noble or righteous sort, so he’ll take whatever he can get. If exaggerating his hurt will make Rover soften up and offer him a gentle concern with his eyes, then Jingran will do exactly that.
"It's been hurting for a while," he says, crowding him in without touching his body and intentionally setting his lips into a vulnerable smile. "Help me...?"
In a blink, he gets the reaction that he wants—Rover's smile shifts into something more apologetic as he focuses on Jingran's golden eye, checking for signs of pain that he won't really see. He lifts his hair with a sweep of his palm and leans in close, and Jingran has to suppress an inappropriately violent shudder when the other man's breath touches the side of his marked cheek.
"Sorry about that, Jingran..." Rover says, meeting his eyes and smiling slightly. "Luuk means well. He's just worried about me."
He pulls his hand back when he finds nothing and turns away from him. Then, in a much softer tone, using a voice Jingran has never heard come out of Rover before, he calls the other man's name as he walks toward him.
"Luuk."
Although his smile stays, Jingran's eyes flicker at the sound of that intimacy, familiar and well worn.
He must use his name often—must call it the exact same way every time they talk. The knowledge stirs a visceral irritation that makes his skin itch.
"Come," Rover murmurs, "meet Jingran.”
The other man's level footsteps draw near. Without a pause or a single complaint about the animosity that Jingran showed, those eyes, which previously looked as if they were steeped in blood, soften as they settle on Rover, his irises and profile now fully awashed in Jingran's lantern's glow.
“Looks like you made another friend." When he smiles at Rover, it looks like he actually means it. “How long have you known I was here?"
“A while.” Rover sighs, placing a hand on his hip. Jingran notices the faint twitch to the corner of his lips as if he is stifling a growing smile. “You could’ve said something. What are you doing all the way here, 'Dr. Herssen'?”
"I figured you needed the help."
"...Was it because of the message I left you? You really left Lahai-Roi for that?"
"For you," Luuk corrects, and Jingran's eyes hone in on Rover's expression. "I left for you."
He thinks he can understand it now—the reason why Rover had hesitated to call him a friend.
It's a bond greater than that. Unknowable, until it is about you and for you. It isn't supposed to make sense to anyone else; they only needed the other to know.
Rover had leashed and collared the man before him with the worst kind of binding, invisible to the eye and indestructible for as long as trust between them continues to exist.
...No, for only as long as the trust between them exists.
Jingran's pulse speeds up as he covers the lower half of his face with his hand, and Rover gives him a curious glance. Under his attention, Jingran forcibly tames his wildly grinning mouth so as not to scare him or arouse suspicion, mimicking Luuk’s gentle demeanor and smiling a close-eyed smile to hide the swirling depthlessness within them.
This is what Rover liked. What gets him to lower his guard.
It was everything that this man stood for.
The places where Rover has touched won’t stop tingling, spreading outward like electric currents, sinking deep between his ribs and pooling low between his legs in a stirring arousal. Jingran shifts, hoping it wouldn't be noticed in the dark. The feeling has only been intensified by the promise of the possibility that Jingran can steal this and make it his.
He just needed to play his cards right, and eventually...
With only the slightest pause, he joins their conversation with an amiable tone and bright demeanor, subduing the wild lick of flames teasing against his lantern's glass, which is telling of its master's true thoughts.
"—A doctor, you say...? Not often do I meet one around these parts. Luuk, right? Heard that's what Rover called you. I believe we started off on the wrong foot."
Jingran smiles with his eyes closed.
In the depraved privacy of his mind, he continues to perversely wonder how it would feel to sever their bond and replace it with his own. How would it feel to break Rover apart, one fragmented piece at a time, and fill up the spaces where Luuk used to be? How far would he let Jingran go with him once he loses what he and Luuk had to take his mind away from the despair of the loss?
Even as a replacement is fine.
He didn't need to be an exact replica. He didn't need to be another 'Luuk'.
The parts that didn't fit, he is sure he could chip and break into shape by force. He just needed to be convincing enough.
'Jingran' is fine. He will do just perfectly.
"And you're the guard he has hired," Luuk returns. Rover is looking at him instead of Jingran, and when he finally notices Jingran's attention, he smiles.
Jingran's eyes subtly glow under his hood.
No pain—just a wash of warm gold. More vivid than his, bright with life.
He would give anything to have this. To keep this close and have it for himself.
"Yes," Jingran answers, and his tone is far kinder than the thought of how he could make that golden shade distort with teary-eyed fear and pleasure that is currently running through his mind. He faces Luuk again, but for the briefest of moments, the abyssal green flame in his lantern violently sputters out. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dr. Luuk."
Luuk smiles, but his eyes do not.
Toward Jingran, the red of their irises blazes bright like freshly spilled blood.
"Likewise."