Spawned from the prompt: "I think I'm in love with you and I'm terrified."

It's almost dawn. Orange light filters through the window where darkness had been what feels like moments ago, casting heavy, threatening shadows over the room. It's something that should be beautiful. Kiku sees it as a mark of the end, as he always does.

Heracles is awake, for once. He usually falls asleep right after the fact, or at least pretends to, while Kiku slips from the bed and into his normal, everyday clothes, back to his normal, everyday life, always before the sun rises. Except Kiku isn't doing that this time. The room is growing lighter by the minute, almost light enough to see the light hair of Heracles's chest and the green of his eyes, yet he feels frozen.

"You're still here," says Heracles, whispering as if he is afraid to be loud.

Kiku takes a moment to respond, perhaps because he is afraid to. "I am."

Heracles runs his hand over the space between them, as close to Kiku's arm as he can get without touching him. "May I ask why?"

Kiku wishes he had an answer. He doesn't. This started as experimentation, an escape, something to lose himself in when his reality became too much for him. He simply wanted to be kissed, touched, pleasured by a near stranger, then slip back into the respectable life he had built for himself as if nothing had happened, before the sun came up or he had a chance to think about it. Now he's thinking about it. And Kiku has never been good at stopping his thoughts after they had started.

"I am not really sure," says Kiku finally. It feels like a resignation. His chest seizes, his mind whirs, and he tries to distract himself. He stares as Heracles turns his head, and Kiku notices a dark splotch blooming on his shoulder - too large, too violent to be a love bite. Something similar is on his ribs, Kiku remembers. He certainly did not do any of that. He wonders why is matters, but without thinking, he asks, "What is that?"

"Oh." Heracles looks down, shrugs... the man always shrugs. It's as if nothing in this world affects him. But his voice isn't steady, and Kiku knows that isn't true. Somehow. "Not all of my clients are as gentle as you."

"Oh." Kiku feels something sympathetic and sickening wedge between his ribs, too forceful, too violent. He tries to speak again, hoping to remind himself of what this is. "How much do I owe you?"

A pause. "Nothing."

Kiku... does not like the sound of that. He sits up, taking the bedsheets with him, suddenly self conscience, sure to cover himself as if it makes any difference. "I beg your pardon?"

Heracles looks up, slowly. His sharp features catch the soon to be morning light, eyes glassy and soft instead of dark and hungry. He breathes evenly instead of panting. Heracles looks... too human. "I... Don't want your money, Kiku."

Kiku swallows. "Why? I have it, it is not an issue..."

"That's not it." Heracles takes a long breath, and then rolls onto his back, eyes fixed on the spinning motel fan. "I think I'm in love with you." He shrugs. "And I'm terrified." He says the words exactly like he had listed his rates a few months ago - flat, detached, empty.

"Oh." Kiku's throat is dry. His heart races. He knows, somewhere in the back of his tired, numbed, cluttered mind, that he had seen this coming. Somewhere even further back, he knew this is why he's still here. "I..."

"You do not have to say anything."

Kiku is not sure he can. He is not sure if he can breathe, or even move, and he certainly cannot summon the will to pull himself from this damn bed and back into his life. Instead, though it goes against every bit of sense he has left, he breaks the unspoken barrier between them and brushes his lips against the bruise.

Heracles let out a soft, almost surprised sigh. "Kiku? Did you want..."

"No." Kiku's voice shakes, just as his body does as he lowers himself to lay on Heracles's chest, the way a lover would. "I would just like to sleep."

"I have someone else to see..."

"No," says Kiku again, immediately. There's a chance whoever that is is the one responsible for those marks, and he refused to take that chance, refuses to move, even though the sun is nearly full in the sky. "I will pay whatever they would. Just... Sleep, please. You look so tired."

Heracles lets out a small sound, likely the beginning of a protest, but all that escapes is, "Okay." Then, again, "Okay."

Silence falls. Kiku can hear Heracles's shaking breath, feel his arms embrace him. He holds him as if he is afraid not to.

Kiku realizes, with a flash of terror, that the feeling is mutual.