Title: while you were sleeping

Summary: What Astral didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

Warnings: Drabble. One-sided Unawareshipping (at least here). KuroxZexal AU.

Author’s Notes: This is awful, but whatever. I just felt like expanding on my lame AU a little more. I can feel satisfied with that. pft

Astral was unreasonably relaxed when he slept. It was a stark contrast to how closed off and distant he tended to be during the daytime. With no business endeavors weighing down his mind and no letters from the Queen to fuss over, he was lost to the land of dreams and his body responded accordingly. His lips were less inclined to frown at paperwork or twitch into a smirk as he gave a sassy retort to a bit of Ryoga’s teasing and his body wasn’t quite as rigid or defensive, rather it was limp and easily manipulated like a doll’s.

However, sometimes during the night, this peace would be broken as his pleasant dreams turned into nightmares. His eyes would scrunch up as if in pain and his lips would twist into a grimace. His body would twist into the mattress and tangle in his sheets as if he were trying to distance himself from some unseen assailant and his fingers would catch his blankets in a grip that made his knuckles turn white. Sometimes he would even say things (names of people long gone or pleas for someone unknown to stop), but most of the time, he only let out tiny whines.

Sometimes he cried.

That was the only time Ryoga ever intervened.

It didn’t take much to calm Astral when he was having one of these mental attacks. A soft touch against his cheek, a brush of fingers beneath his eyes, and a few quiet words usually did the trick.

“…nn…”

Tonight, none of that seemed to be working. No matter what he said or tried to do, Astral’s expression only grew more pained and his whines turned into a string of broken sentences that were leftover memories from his days spent in Hell.

Those days the cult had him.

“Oi, wake up!”

Ryoga got fed up with hearing it. He usually didn’t wake Astral during nights like these, but his usual methods to chase the nightmares away had never failed before, either.

Ryoga’s eyes narrowed and his hand slipped down from Astral’s hair to grab hold of his shoulder, fully intending on shaking the kid until he opened his eyes.

“Ast-”

“Nasch.”

Ryoga froze, expression turning into bewilderment. Astral was still asleep, but he was saying his name now. That was…a first. To his knowledge, Astral never dreamed about him. He often teased him about things like that, but he never actually believed it.

“N-na…sch.”

Something about the way Astral was saying his name made the fires of their contract burn, as if he were being ordered to come to Astral’s side. It was a little alarming, but Ryoga didn’t know what to do about it. He was already here at Astral’s side. What more could he do?

He frowned.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, moving closer. His hand returned to its place on Astral’s cheek and the burn became a little less intense, but it was still there and still throbbing. He wasn’t sure how to make it stop. “Entering dreams isn’t something I can do. That’s not a power I have.”

“Nas…ch…”

The burn suddenly grew more intense as if its flames had been given more fuel and Ryoga was overcome by a feeling he couldn’t describe. Much like their first meeting, his body moved out of instinct and closed the little distance that separated them.

And before he knew it, he was kissing him.

Astral let out another whine and seemed to struggle for a moment, but once the moment passed, he finally relaxed for the first time since his nightmare began. He lost the strong grip he had on his blankets and his face fell into a more peaceful expression.

And the burn died down to smouldering embers.

“…N-nasch…” he mumbled out, the word somewhat muffled with Ryoga’s lips pressed against his.

As if someone flipped a switch using his name as the rigger, reality came crashing down on him hard and he jerked away once he realized what he was doing.

‘What did I…?’

For a moment he was afraid Astral had woken up, but he calmed down at bit at seeing the child still sleeping. More talking in his sleep, so it seemed.

“…what the hell is wrong with me…” he muttered to himself.

He turned away with a scowl on his face, eyes brimming with uncertainty and traces of fear. He made no move to stand and simply stared down at the carpet as if it had all the answers.

“Why would I…?”

’Why would I kiss him like that?’

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all and that actually frightened him. He knew his reasons for everything he did. Everything. But Astral was proving to be some kind of anomaly his life that he couldn’t figure out. He, Nasch, was a powerful Barian Lord that had never once initiated a contract with someone, never once stooped himself so low as to be the figurative loyal dog to any creature (human or otherwise), and had never once ever been kind to a human.

But here he was with Astral, as he had been for the past three years.

He selfishly swiped this child right out of Death’s grip, murdered his torturers with a vengeful blood lust that had quite literally sprung from out of nowhere, and turned right back around to offer this same child a demon’s contract that ended up damning his soul. And for what? What made this one little insignificant human so special?

He didn’t know.

’…back then, I got angry and lost my temper.’

Ah, that’s right. He had only been passing by when he stumbled across Astral and the people (Astral’s own people; it was just so sick) that had been in the process of stealing his future by using him as some kind of ritualistic sacrifice. Seeing it happening with his own eyes, Nasch was reminded of someone he once knew (someone he had failed to save a long, long time ago) and his vision went red as his anger and repulsion flared. Astral was just a child, but he was being hurt by people who were supposed to protect him, he was being butchered and forced to cry while the adults hovering over him only smiled and cooed false words of comfort dripping with spoiled honey.

Despite his general distaste for humans, Nasch hadn’t been able to stop himself from leaping in. He didn’t know what those people were trying to summon (if they were even summoning anything), but he supposed they must have succeeded in some way.

They managed to summon him, a Barian demon with a short temper and an even shorter tolerance for false prophets and child abusers.

Nasch lost himself to his rage and ripped the entire cult to shreds. He made sure they suffered. He made sure they screamed and cried and pleaded for their lives until their blood painted the walls and pooled beneath his feet.

That, he mused with a scary quirk of his lips, had been very satisfying. He wasn’t normally one to go off on rampages like that (Mizael had a lot to do with helping him stay grounded as did Astral), but he had been out on his own and…well, all those stories the humans liked to tell about his kind (about how they liked to kill) weren’t completely untrue. There was a certain thrill to it, he would admit (when the killings were warranted, at least), but otherwise he’d rather solve things in a way that didn’t result in the other party being a bloody mess on the floor.

But that time with Astral…those people had deserved every wound they received. He didn’t feel guilty for taking their lives.

His lips fell into a frown as he remembered the aftermath of that gruesome scene.

He did, however, feel guilty over Astral’s pitiful state. He hadn’t known who the kid was back then and he never put any thought into what he would do after saving him (there hadn’t been any time to think that far, really; he had acted on pure instinct), but in the wake of his rampage, as he stood there surrounded by scattered body pieces, puddles of blood, and a scarlet streaked altar that held a traumatized child on top of it, a sense of responsibility hit him.

And he offered him a contract.

“You don’t want to admit this, but you’re kind at heart.” he could practically hear Mizael saying, tone amused. It wouldn’t be the first time Mizael had said something like this to him. “Maybe a little too kind. You should be careful or you’ll hurt yourself.”

Maybe this is what he meant. He hadn’t ever considered the possibility before, but when he really thought over it, he was…too attached to Astral. He was attached to the one who had offered him his soul in exchange for protection (and, essentially, revenge). What he chose to do with the soul had not been discussed, but Astral seemed to be under the impression that he would eat him or something equally appalling and ridiculous. Regardless, whatever was done with it, the end result would be the same.

Astral was going to die and he would be the one to kill him.

Ryoga let out a defeated sigh, shoulders slumping as he brought a hand to his forehand.

“…god damn it…” he growled out in frustration.

Astral suddenly stirred next to him and Ryoga felt his heart thud in apprehension. He was frozen to his seat, unable to move even at the threat of his young charge suddenly awakening. He visibly relaxed, however, when the little lord did nothing more than snuggle into his pillow and give a sleepy little sigh of contentment. He looked incredibly relaxed and there was this tiny little smile on his face that made Ryoga unconsciously smile himself.

“Stupid brat.” he muttered. He leaned over the sleeping child and brushed away a few stray strands of his hair. “You’re always finding new ways to piss me off.”

His eyes softened a little without his consent. Somehow, this was unfair, but he supposed it didn’t matter in the long run. Astral didn’t have to know about his feelings. Ryoga himself wasn’t even certain what they were.

“I’ll probably get sick of you by the time our contract ends anyway.” he reasoned. He hesitated a moment before leaning just a bit closer and brushing his lips against Astral’s forehead. This was slightly more appropriate than his earlier kiss, but he felt uneasy regardless. “…hm…”

He was going to have a talk with Mizael about this later. He couldn’t talk about this with Astral, but he had to tell someone and Mizael was the only one he really, honestly trusted with personal matters like this.