Beta-read by Nadramon.

Elliot lay on his bed, staring at his room upside-down. He was feeling uncharacteristically tired and empty, though he could not quite explain it. It was as though a surge of lethargy had taken over his body and held him still. He sighed and ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair, as if the mere action would just as easily dust away his thoughts. However, it didn't work, and he was left with the feeling of incompletion.

Somewhere above (or it might have been below) his head, the sound of a turning page reminded him of the other occupant in his room. He rolled over to his stomach—watching the world spin—and peered over the edge of the elevated bed. The blonde was able to land right next to his servant's head. He looked over the dark-haired boy's shoulder, quietly plunging halfway into the passage of whatever heavy tome Leo was poring over.

… before the steps, which were wet and slippery with the night's heavy downpour. He turned around and smiled at his companion, appearing as if he had the secret to all things in life….

Leo's fingers were elegantly splayed between the pages, breaking the flow of the words. Occasionally, he shifted them to reveal a new line but otherwise kept still. The blonde followed their natural curves, taking in the subtle highlights and shadows on the flesh. They were smooth and unmarred, pliant and flexible digits of an experienced pianist; they were fingers which frequently found themselves tucked between Elliot's.

Some of Leo's hair was in his face, and Elliot had to wonder how he saw through the thick clumps. It must be annoying, he thought. The silver edge of his glasses caught his eye and, before he could consciously decide against it, Elliot plucked his servant's frames from his face. They dangled in mid-air for a moment, urged by the blonde's wishes.

His action elicited a very indignant, "Hey!" and a look—unhidden by spectacles. The glare seemed tenfold more potent. Without responding, the blonde placed the wire frames onto his own face and pushed them up to his forehead, causing his unruly hair to spray out unnaturally. He turned over on his back; dropped his head over the edge of the bed, baring his neck; and gazed silently at his annoyed valet. Elliot laced his fingers on his stomach and breathed softly. He decided that Leo looked funny upside-down.

"Give those ba—"

"You can read better without them," he said, cutting him off. Leo let out a huff and straightened up on his knees, so he was at more or less the same level as Elliot. Automatically, he had slipped a finger between the pages to save his spot. With his free hand, he went for his glasses, but was impeded when Elliot reached up with lightning speed and tightly grasped it. For a second time, the blonde sat up, levying his weight mainly on his knees. His clutch on Leo's hand twisted slightly as he held himself on his knees, much like his servant. He tilted their faces until they were dangerously close, daring Leo to either back up or lean in.

When Leo did neither out of pure defiance, Elliot closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. He loosened his hand somewhat, pushed their warm palms flush, and laced their fingers. His breath came out slowly. There was a soft thump, and Elliot knew that his studious servant had lost his page (though he had little doubt that he could find it again later).

"Elliot?" Leo ventured. The blonde felt the word flutter over his lips and his valet's forehead wrinkle in concern. He brought his other hand up on the edge of the bed. "What's wrong?"

"I don't—" he paused and squeezed their hands together tighter, "—know." Tiredly, he opened his eyes, meeting the worried ones of his servant. "I don't know." He couldn't stand the intensity of the gaze and sought temporary blindness again. Elliot angled his face so their lips were barely touching, hesitated, and stopped. Their breaths were mingling together intimately, so he held his. It was stolen from him when Leo sealed their kiss, slowly moving his lips against his master's. He began to breathe again.

Leo was rubbing slow circles along the side of his thumb in a comforting gesture.

"It feels like something bad is going to happen soon," he whispered the words into Leo's partially opened mouth. He willed his servant to swallow them. "But I don't know what."

There was a ringing noise in his ears, though he was acutely aware of the pure silence in the room. It was a painful, screeching noise which began its subtle crescendo shortly after he kissed Leo. It was splitting his head in half; it was threatening to cleave his sanity and insanity into parts. Suddenly, he felt like tearing at his ears due to the intensity of the imaginary—imaginary?—shriek, but then, Leo put his hand over his beating heart, and it stopped.

He didn't realize how fast and ragged his breathing had become until he heard it. His heart seemed intent on imitating the unhealthy rate of his inspiration as well. He was bordering hyperventilation.

Something terribly, terribly wrong was going to happen. Like dead bodies on the floor, bloodied and torn. Screaming and chaos and—

Elliot's grip on Leo's hand tightened—and he was going to break those fragile fingers if he didn't stop—in an effort to reassure himself, but he just felt choked. He felt like crying out, yet couldn't; his throat was so unbearably dry and pained that he couldn't bring himself to utter the slightest noise.

"Elliot…. Elliot, Elliot, Elliot," Leo said again and again in a hushed voice, bringing his hand up to brush against the clammy cheek of his master. Under his fingertips, the dark-haired boy could feel the blonde shaking. He moved his hand higher and knocked his glasses off Elliot's forehead. They bounced a distance away from them. "Elliot…!" he tried one last time, pushing another kiss into the boy's embrace and willingly giving himself up.

Immediately, the blonde accepted the sacrifice. He disentangled their hands and pressed them, instead, to Leo's face. Ungrounded desperation and fear found themselves translated through bites and breathless gasping. Neither of them could breathe properly, though their intoxication on their kiss appeared more than enough to keep them alive.

With a prodding tongue and gentle fingers, Leo kept urging him to go on and do what he will with him. If a pause came to be, a suggestive suck had Elliot getting lost in a myriad of conflicting thoughts again. He felt Leo's fingers trail down his sides, firm and unyielding, grasping once or twice at his shirt only to let go and move up again. His own hands tugged and pulled at thick, messy hair, tilting his servant's face just so and leaning over him possessively. Elliot was absolutely overbearing him, though the servant made no objection against it.

He, who was on a soft bed, suddenly wondered if his valet was feeling pain from kneeling on the hard ground. Pain—as in the type people may or may not have felt before becoming headless—which Elliot did not wish to inflict upon Leo. The blonde swallowed before pulling away. His lips were red and his face flushed, perhaps due to their intimate gestures or the still-racing tune of his heart.

He blinked and said, "Are you—"

Leo stopped his words by biting the corner of his bottom lip and breathed out, "Okay?" His fingers skittered under Elliot's wrinkled shirt, where they found contact with his warm skin. He flattened his fingers against Elliot's waist, forcing shivers to run up his master's back by dragging his blunt nails over the skin slowly. "Are you okay?"

The blonde started, breaking out of the pleasant, dazed state produced by his servant's subtle ministrations. He realized that Leo had just finished his question and returned it to him. "I'm—"

He halted when he saw Leo's eyebrows furrow. "Don't lie," the dark-haired boy said, frowning. "You're not fine." He removed hands from underneath his shirt, reached up, and wrapped his arms around his master's neck, effectively pulling him down into a close hug. "You're not fine," he reiterated into the space between his ear and hair.

Elliot shuddered and allowed himself to be taken into the embrace fully.

"Something terrible is going to happen soon," he mouthed into the air behind Leo, not capable of forming audible words. Still, despite the muted fear, Elliot felt that he was understood. The arms around him tightened protectively.

"Don't worry, Elliot. I'll make sure to get rid of anyone who is a threat to you. No matter who. No matter what…." One of his hands fell down to the small of his back. He clutched at the fabric there.

The blonde dug his chin into Leo's shoulder, feeling a chill go through him and a sense of nausea tickle the back of his throat.

"No matter what…." he repeated softly to his master.

Elliot shifted a bit on the bed, making sunlight catch onto Leo's discarded glasses. They slid on the sheets until they were sucked into the dip created by his kneeling. The frames stopped gently by his knee.

Unseen and unnoticed by his master, Leo narrowed his eyes and grinned, teeth flashing like his spectacles in the light.