Human Crossmare <3
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Cross walked into his, shared, home. After a long day of training he was bound to be roughed up, Killer had not gone easy on him in their spar session. Cross trudged up the stairs, stepping into the long corridor. He knew where he was headed, it wasn't uncommon for him to linger around his superior's living space.
The two had a bond, an annoyingly close bond. They never put a label but, it was obvious they were close in ways a subordinate and boss shouldn't be. Although they never said the other could, they constantly seek the other out. This time, Cross approached. He knocked on the door. After a noise, muffled by the wood, he opens the door.
"Boss?" Cross huffed out, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Large beads of sweat fell into the fluff of his jacket.
"Cross, I have made this clear before. One, I have a name and I would appreciate it if you used it. Two, you are stinking up my office with your must. Take a shower." Nightmare's voice sounds cold, icy. They doesn't pay Cross a glance, focusing on reading as they speak.
Cross gives a short nod before opening his mouth, "I had a request."
"After your shower, I do not wish to smell this o-"
Cross looks to the side. His embarrassment causing him to lash out, "It has to do with my shower!" He shouts.
Nightmare closes their book after making a mental note of what page they were on, "What do you need, Cross?" They ask, curious as to what was needed of them.
"I would like company. Will you join me...?" Cross's voice comes out shaky, nervous about the conversation(or worse, scolding) that would follow.
A sigh sounds and Nightmare stands, "If you please." They take off their crown and cloak, setting it on the desk they previously sat at.
Cross was shocked at the response, it was as simple as that? There must be a catch! He gets pulled out of his thoughts and looks up. Nightmare stands at the door of the bathroom, perks of owning the master bedroom, gesturing for him to follow.
The two step into the bathroom and begin to strip. Cross insists on facing the wall, or closing his eyes, as Nightmare undresses but it would simply be unnecessary. This wasn't the first time they've seen each other, nor would it be the last.
Cross started first. Kicking off his boots and, comically, large coat. Nightmare watched, intensely. When Cross removed his shirt, many scars were on display. He was a royal guard, and now a soldier, it made sense. He was broad shouldered and extremely toned, battling and working so often helped with his form. He then stripped completely, Nightmare eyeing everyone before starting themself.
They removed their heeled boots and carefully slipped off their socks. All their clothing held a matte black color, piling their clothes would have some resemblance to an endless void. They proceeded to remove their shirt. Unlike Cross, Nightmare was lean, they didn't carry much muscle. Nightmare's work mainly consisted of signing papers, plotting missions, and dodging. They wouldn't work like their subordinates, they don't like mingling with common folk.
Cross couldn't help but peak at Nightmare, going back on his modest words. He noticed Nightmare had many scars, some putting his own to shame. What had him most captured was Nightmare's arm. Those scars couldn't have come from a physical battle, they were too precise. His expression softened as he noticed the scars were old. Another observation was that Nightmare's hands were hesitant, as if they were scared.
After Nightmare finished they poked their hand in to check the temperature. A glaze of steam had honeyed the room. Cross stepped in, gently tugging Nightmare's hand.
The shower was spacious so they didn't have to press against each other, Nightmare favored a large tub in order to fully submerge themself. Despite the space available Cross grabbed Nightmare by the hips and pulled them close.
"W-What do you think you are doing...!?" Nightmare asks shakily, their voice gaining strength near the end of the sentence.
Cross snickered, "I was going to clean you." He lifts his other hand showing a small, damp, towel. Nightmare gives a skeptical look but then nods.
Cross gently places the towel on Nightmare's shoulder, he gives them a small massage before running down the crease in their back. Nightmare paces their breaths, nervous from the proximity. Cross's hands travel back up and to the other shoulder, giving it the same treatment as the other one. Nightmare let out a sigh of relief as their shoulders loosened.
Cross dipped his hand back down, cleaning Nightmare's legs. He lifted the other's leg, their thigh pressing against his. Impure thoughts hung high in Cross's head. They were so small, right there for him to ravage. He shakes the thoughts out his head and continues to clean Nightmare.
"Cross..." Nightmare groans out as he rubs a spot on their chest. Cross flushes and moves to clean a different area.
When Cross finishes Nightmare takes the towel and begins to clean their companion. Delicate fingers rubbing over his body, Nightmare couldn't help but squeeze Cross's chest. It was solid yet so pliable, the same consistency as oobleck.
Nightmare sighs, and finishes quicker than they had wanted. They shut the water off and step onto the plush, cyan carpet sitting outside their shower. Cross followed grabbing two towels to dry off with.
The two assisted each other with drying off. Nightmare sat on their bed, pulling their shirt over their head. They glance up at Cross still wrapped in a towel. Of course he didn't bring clothes.
"You can borrow my clothing if you must, Cross." Nightmare suggests. Cross nods and grabs a pair of pants. He sticks his kegs through and stares at Nightmare. He shakes his head and walks to the door.
His thoughts drifted off again, to holding the other and resting with them. It was highly inappropriate and highly unlikely. Nightmare was a guarded person, never letting anyone close to them. Physically and mentally. Of course they couldn't cuddle... Nobody would want that with him.
Cross radiated loneliness, shame, and guilt. Nightmare perked up, tilting their head to the side. An unfulfilled desire came to light.
"Would..." Nightmare halted with their words. This would be completely out of line, "Would you like to stay...?" Their question was more hopeful than desired. Cross eyed them. It was unnatural for Nightmare to be so affectionate, despite their bond.
Cross stepped over to the other and climbed into the bed. He takes a seat and puts his hand on Nightmare's thigh. The two look at each other, Cross leans in but Nightmare pulls back.
"Sorry... I just thought-" Cross gets cut off with lips pressing his. A soft pair. He pushes back, allowing himself to savor the moment.
Nightmare pulls away, unceremoniously(shocking to Cross), and closes their eyes. They open their mouth, "Goodnight."
Cross lays down next to them and pulls them close to his chest, "Goodnight, Nightingale." The pet name causes Nightmare to blush a teal hue as they press their face against Cross's chest.
Nightmare lets out a breath and slightly smiles.
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