A/N: Finally got to writing again.

As per usual, constructive criticism is appreciated.

Night-time had never been particularly pleasant for Lloyd. He much preferred the brightness of the sun over the luminosity of the glowing moon; the warmth of an afternoon breeze rather than a cool evening chill. There were far more friendly smiles during the day, and far less sinister intentions. For a very long time, the only saving grace of the darker hours were the sparkling stars in the sky and the strange nostalgia that overcame him each time he gazed toward them.

Or so it was, until he met Zelos Wilder.

It began simply enough: Lloyd's infernal curiosity brought him to ask just why his new friend seemed so bright and cheery at night. The elder's answer had been less than appealing, and feeling disgusted, the twin swordsman pushed it to one of the far corners of his mind. There it would stay, locked away until it was called upon.

Months later, just as he returned from a sobering talk with that same man, Lloyd recalled Zelos' response. He remembered the way he laughed, loud, harsh and carefree. There was only one way to describe it: fake. Fake, fake, fake. Beneath all of the jovial laughter, Zelos was hiding. From his past, from his present, from his future... and maybe even from the night.

He didn't realize that final connection for some time. In fact, it was months later, after the inexplicable had occurred and he found himself entangled in Zelos' arms, watching him attempt to sleep away his troubles. Lloyd watched him fail, time after time; after all, escapism never played out so well in the world of dreams. As he watched his lover's face contort in confusion, fear and sadness, he remembered how Zelos used to occupy the night-time: false smiles, cold company and a constant reassurance of the mask he'd become so comfortable with. Now, without this alternative - Zelos was changing for him, removing that mask - he resolutely bore with his nightmares.

This realization didn't stun Lloyd or even remotely faze him. In fact, it furthered his kinship with his companion. For years, he'd endured the blurry memories of a terrifying fall down a cliff. He'd woken countless times, feeling as if he was still in motion, desperate for an escape from his waking dreams; desperate for reassurance. Luckily for him, his father, Dirk, had always been there to ruffle his hair and nudge him gently back into bed. He knew how unlikely it was that Zelos had ever had that support... and he was determined to provide him with it.

The very next night he found himself pressed against the elder, and that same night those same expressions successively formed upon Zelos' face. His breath came in gasps, as if the event he was partaking in was so overwhelming he couldn't remember how to breathe. Lloyd awoke to the sound of his labored breathing, and immediately comprehended the situation at hand.

Forming a response took a bit longer. His initial idea had been to emulate his adoptive father, but in the end, he realized those actions were unfamiliar to him, and probably to Zelos, too. Instead, he chose to do what he was comfortable with. With fingers trembling ever so slightly, he reached out toward his lover, and pressed strands of red hair from his face. Then, ever so tenderly, he brushed the tips of his knuckles against his cheek, back and forth... back and forth.

"S'okay," he whispered softly. He didn't want to wake Zelos if he didn't have to. He just wanted him to recognize his voice so that he could soothe him into a peaceful slumber. "You're not alone... I'm here."

It took time and effort - repeated attempt after repeated attempt - for his actions and words to sink in. But when they did, Lloyd finally found something that made the night worthwhile: Zelos' peaceful expression.