In all his years of slaughtering creatures of the deep, conquering the seas, and participating in ferocious battles against his enemies, Calixto has never felt so grateful to be alive. Even as his savior, the peculiar white-haired male, complained about his weight dragged down by the exhaustion of barely making the pit out alive. He coughed, the sensation in his throat rough and grating, as streams of water rushed out of his lungs.
His vision was bleary, unfocused. The world was barely comprehensible, and when his senses returned to him, an immaculate and beautiful deity's face came to his view, or Faine's face came to his view. He couldn't bother to discern between the two in his current state. The deity could look like Faine or Faine could look like the deity for all he knew. It didn't matter. He wanted nothing more than to stare into those lovely browns before he would eventually meet his end.
"Calixto...! Calixto!" The deity cried out, barely containing his tears as the captain's hand came to cup his cheek. The deity looked quite distressed and, in all honesty, was annoyingly loud. It only worsened his aching head.
His deity, his blameless and pristine immortal, turned to talk to the other man that accompanied him, the man that Calixto identified as his savior, rescuing him when he was moments away from suffocation. The violet-eyed savior seemed quite displeased at whatever he heard and if the captain had even a single ounce of strength in his limbs, he would've fought his savior for being so unmannered towards the beautiful being holding Calixto in his arms.
He couldn't make sense of what they were yelling about, but it had something to do with camping out and the alarmingly large wall meters away from them. Perhaps they were about to go camping next to the wall, or the wall was about to camp on them. He wouldn't know. He could barely feel his head—if he still even had one.
Everything after that was a blur. Calixto was picked up by impossibly skinny arms. It took him a few seconds to realize they belonged to his savior. How exactly did the frail man manage to pull him out of his demise when he looked to be half Calixto's weight?
He had no time to think up an explanation because, in a flash of events, they had approached the intimidating wall, all three of them—wait, no, four of them. There was another man on his savior's other shoulder, although he was unconscious. The captain found him vaguely recognizable, an immediate rush of pain emerging from his head when he tried to remember who the teal-headed boy was to him. Whoever he was, he looked like what the captain was feeling.
He felt his savior's arm raise to make contact with the wall. The pirate's face tried to turn his head in curiosity but quickly gave up when he realized that he no longer had it in him to do anything but blink. A bright violet light reflected on their lifeless surroundings, and Calixto could roughly make out the warmth of fire coming from where his body faced the wall.
His eyelids started falling once more when they walked through a human-sized hole. The rain didn't seem to follow them, the grass much greener on the other side of the threatening barrier. He watched in awe as the hole on the wall mended itself, the tendrils that resembled branches coming together like there hadn't been a hole in the first place. The place smelled like a fairytale—that was Calixto's last thought before he succumbed to the darkness once again.
--
The second time the captain emerged from deep sleep, he was much more sober. There was no more mistaking Faine for a god anymore. It was just Faine with him in the small, unrecognizable room. Faine who looked like he hadn't slept at all since the last time they had spoken. Faine who was wiping Calixto's face with a warm cloth, gentle enough to convince the pirate that he was made of fragile glass. Faine who looked like he was about to cry from relief when Calixto's eyes fluttered open, greeting the captain with the sight of his unrestrained and wholly joyous expression.
Faine wrapped his arms around the fatigued male, careful not to put pressure in places he knew had rather fatal injuries. The touch had been gentle, careful, he felt like he was surrounded by dandelions. If being lovingly held by a beautiful person was what came after drowning, then he might try it again, or never, actually. The captain did his best to hold the other back, their foreheads touching rather intimately. He didn't mention the salty fluids that had transferred to his face as well. The courtesan looked relieved to see him awake, but he sensed it, the guilt hidden behind the smile.
"What happened...?" He tried to say, but all that left his mouth was a garbled grunt. His hands quickly searched for water on the nightstand next to his makeshift bed. The courtesan moved a mug towards his parched lips, conjuring the thing seemingly out of nowhere, and he devoured the water inside, much of it drenching his face and the unfamiliar pair of pants that clung loosely around his waist. His face. His uncovered, unprotected, bare face.
The wooden mug clattered against the floor as Calixto's eyes widened in realization. He felt like he was back in the pit, anticipating whether things would end in misfortune or not.
"My face." He managed to utter.
Faine only looked at him as if his words had been nonsensical. "What about your face? Does it hurt?"
He shook his head. He wanted so badly to push the other away, to demand he be left alone in the cramped room, wherever he was. But all he managed to let out was, "My mask."
"The pit was already filled by the time I got there. Regardless, the mask was already broken when you fell. There's no point in looking for it." He answered.
The room was quiet again after that. He let his eyes follow the other as he walked around the small space, as if he was already familiar with it, placing one thing there and moving one thing here. If he knew less, he'd have assumed that he was staying in the courtesan's home.
"Are you disgusted by me? Do you regret letting me touch you now?" He spoke again, no longer able to contain his mind. He wouldn't necessarily be broken if Faine said, 'Yes.' Ugly things were unappealing, unpleasant, no matter how hard one tried to contain them. He'd have to move on, eventually. That's just how the world worked.
It was silent again. Then he felt the bed dip, his head immediately snapping upwards.
"Let me see." Faine stared. He stared so excruciatingly long that it made Calixto wonder if he grew a second head while he blacked out. He thought it'd be impossible to feel more vulnerable than he already had prior to almost dying, but under the gaze of such an undeniably attractive person, he felt like his body was being stripped free of his skin.
"I see nothing wrong with your face."
"You might have mistaken it, captain. I'm guessing it's because of the near-death experience." Faine finally gave him his closure, the answer so laid back that it made the pirate blink rapidly. Once. Twice. Thrice. He honestly didn't know if he preferred it over pity. But as he let the familiarity between the two of them settle in, he realized that, yeah, the teasing expression on the courtesan's face was better than that belittling emotion.
Calixto mirrored the other's friendly smile. "Since when were you so soft-spoken?"
The courtesan only rolled his eyes, and before Calixto could even process the conversation in his head, they were back at their constant back-and-forth. "Since when did you care so much about your looks? Is it a princely thing?"
Calixto only groaned, leaning back to return to his laying position on the stiff bed. It wasn't that comfortable, but it did wonders to hide his embarrassment. In all honesty, he himself didn't know when he started being so tense around the subject of his face, or more accurately, his curse.
"I could barely give a shit about what I look. I know other people do, though. I hate to think that I'm losing respect because of it."
"Truly the fierce and unstoppable Captain Calixto! I thought I lost you for a moment there. You kept mumbling about a beautiful deity or something."
Scrambled memories started rushing in, and the pirate had never felt so humiliated. Not even when he finished a whole pint of ale did he commit such a gravely humiliating act. He'd blame it on Faine's good looks, but he wasn't one to act like such a loser.
"How's the kid?" He asked. He was trying to change the topic, and Faine could tell if the stretch of his smile indicated anything.
The courtesan must've felt bad for his sickly state because he decided to drop the topic without any cheeky remarks.
"The blood loss was frightening. I'm surprised he even survived."
"You were the one who told me not to underestimate him, dove."
"I'm not backing down on my word." He corrected. "I was just worried I'd lose him. I'm sure it happens to everyone."
Calixto observed him from his place on the bed. Faine's gaze was distant, weary. He couldn't imagine the worry that must've haunted him for the past few... however long it's been since he was pulled out of his death.
"What's the newbie to you?" He asked, letting his curiosity reign in in his more than drowsy state.
"Oh? Taking the role of my nagging lover now, are you?" The courtesan deflected the other's sincerity with humor. Calixto didn't know why he was so resistant to the topic.
"I'm asking more as a curious friend."
That left Faine frozen in shock. "Friend? We're friends?"
Calixto could only snicker, amused at the other's disbelief. "After everything you've put me through, I'm sure we've grown close enough to warrant that."
"I'm still sorry about that."
"A bit too late, ain't it, dove?"
The pirate almost instantly came to regret his words as Faine's expression contorted to one of hurt. He looked so small like that, so defeated—the reality of his role in the life-or-death situation they had just faced starting to sink in. Guilt. That's the only thing Calixto found in those kind eyes.
He couldn't stop himself from reaching out a hand, massaging his thumb against the top of Faine's hand. It was a domestic gesture, unusual territory for the pirate. But his companion looked like he needed it. If he looked even deeper, Calixto would find that he too needed the small act of affection. And Faine reciprocated it, taking his hand into his much smaller ones.
"Hey, the betrayal wasn't your fault. I'm plenty sure we would've been fine and dandy right now had it not been for those scums tricking us."
"Sae's body felt so cold against my skin." He confessed, voice soft, delicate like he was on the verge of breaking under Calixto's fingertips. His remorse didn't allow him to listen to reason, not when moments ago, he was impossibly close to losing a person who mattered to him dearly. Before he realized it, tears started streaming down his face. "It felt like I was dying inside as well."
Then, in his weakest moment, the courtesan whispered. "I'm responsible, aren't I?"
Calixto was quick to move closer to Faine's face, his entire body demanding him to stay put as sharp pain took over every patch of his skin. Even then, he didn't relent, he held the other's head to his chest, the wet spot that had started forming on his shirt causing his throat to tighten. He never thought the day would come when he would see the beauty so broken. It was tragic, bittersweet, he didn't want Faine to cry, but the man deserved the release.
"I won't deny that you're the reason we came here in the first place," He felt the other flinch at his words, and almost on instinct, he placed his hand on the courtesan's back. "But as I said, you weren't the one who sabotaged us. You never would've hurt the newbie, even I know that."
"He's still hurt though. That doesn't change anything."
"Blaming yourself when the newbie probably doesn't want you to don't change anything either."
"How do you know that?"
"Hm?" He hummed, confused by the other's question.
"How do you know Sae doesn't want me to feel guilty?"
Calixto laughed, the sound was unconstrained, free. "Don't be dense, dove. I know you see the way the kid looks at you."
The captain felt doomed. As much as he wanted to make fun of his newbie's crush and his crystal clear, practically transparent way of showing his emotions, he himself couldn't deny the pounding of his heart as he held Faine closer. It wasn't as electrifying as it was when they first met—when they were only led by bodily desires. No, this time, the gentle buzzing in his veins was tranquil, like the comfort of the fireplace during an unrelenting snowstorm.
Faine could only blush at his words, flustered as he was confronted with Saeger's infatuation for him. So even other people noticed. "Yeah, he isn't much of a kid now."
Faine looked up from where he had been nuzzling Calixto's chest, long eyelashes damp. "I want to make things better. For Sae. For you."
"You're so kind, dove." His stomach grumbled. Only now did he realize that he'd probably been starved of basic necessities throughout the entire time he was unconscious. He had been too occupied by his conversation with the courtesan to recognize the aching that came from his insides. "You should probably start with that."