Noxious [DenNor]

13.

The neon green digits on the oven clock read six in the morning. Taking into account the half hour it had taken him to get up and make breakfast, Lukas calculated that he had procured just under five measly hours of sleep. From where he sat at the kitchen table, steaming mug of coffee clutched like a lifeline between his spindly fingers, he shrugged the realization off. He could sleep when he was dead. In the meantime, there was stuff to be done, and a limited amount of time to do it.

He studied Mathias through narrow eyes. The hot mess of a Dane had still been passed out in the kitchen by the time Lukas woke up. He wasn't normally one to put much thought into the comfort of others, but he tried to make his awakening as accommodating as possible. He figured he owed him at least that, especially after all he had put him through over the past few days.

"Breakfast is great, Nor." Mathias glanced up from his plate, which consisted of scrambled eggs, strawberries, and what had previously been a teeming pile of bacon. Without taking his eyes from Lukas' face, he chased a strawberry around his plate with his fork. "You really didn't have to, though."

"Shut up and eat your fruit, you ungrateful Dane."

The ghost of a smile touched Mathias' as he reverted his focus onto his plate. Whether his expression was the outcome of embitterment or genuine amusement, it dispersed far too soon for Lukas to be certain.

Around five minutes and a half cup of coffee later, Mathias pushed his dish- which, to Lukas' faint satisfaction, had been wiped clean- forward before proceeding to suck the greasy remnants of his breakfast from each fingertip. It took a mighty effort for Lukas to refrain from rolling his eyes as he rose from his own chair and headed over to the coffeemaker.

"I'd get ready if I were you. You and I are going on a road trip today."

Something between laughter and choking erupted from Mathias' mouth. He didn't hesitate to shoot from his seat, eyebrows raised to form an incredulous question. "I'm sorry? Come again? I don't think I heard you right. You and me. Together. In a car. Nor, you haven't even been out of your room in two days!"

Concentrating on the effort it took to steady his hand as he refilled his coffee mug to the brim, Lukas shrugged. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"We ran Sweden and Fin out of the house because they didn't want to deal with the drama of our little situation. And now you expect me to agree to jump on into the car with you like nothing is wrong?" He didn't have to venture a peek over his shoulder to know that Mathias was slowly migrating across the kitchen towards him. "I don't know what kind of twisted conflict resolution plot you've got brewing, but my guess is that it isn't gonna end well."

Lukas waited to respond until he had set back down the coffee pot and could turn to properly appraise his Danish counterpart.

"First of all," he began in a voice that was both cold and matter-of-fact. There was no sign of the weakness that, only a few nights prior, had prompted him to announce his feelings to the world. "Ice is going to be coming along with us on this little trip, and I'll sooner be as damned as you are than I will allow my brother to get caught up in an argument between us."

"Second; if you want even the smallest chance of breaking this curse, then you're going to have to trust me. It's either this, or spend the rest of your existence alone, every day a miserable repetition of how I can only assume you spent yesterday, and probably the day before that. The ball is in your court, Denmark. Do you want my help, or don't you?"

If his owl-eyed visage was any indicator, Mathias was taken aback by Lukas' rant, but it was unlikely that he was anywhere near as shocked as Lukas himself. He hadn't expected to deliver his statement with such fervor, nor that, by the time he finished, his heart would be hammering as violently as it did.

For a horrible moment, he almost expected him to reject him outright. To resign himself to the fate he'd been locked into so many centuries ago. And what could Lukas do, really, if that was the course he chose to take?

He didn't have much time to ponder over alternatives when, to his insurmountable relief, Mathias gave a curt, decisive nod.

"Alright, Nor. I'll go. I just need to know one thing."

Bringing his mug to his lips, Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"...Should I pack an extra change of clothes?"

Lukas might have laughed into the steaming hot, oily brew of his coffee had he been any more equipped for a more uncomfortable question. Instead, a rush of warm air shot through his nose as he glanced up into Mathias' crooked, if not moderately wary, grin. He was the same big dork he had always been, even in the face of something bigger and darker than them both.

Somehow, this was enough to lift a significant amount of weight from his shoulders.

"No, I don't think so." He gave the brawny Danish man a quick one-over, then paused. "...But I would suggest changing out of your pajamas."

"On it!" Mathias spun around on the heels of his bare feet, and made it all the way to the doorway before jarring to a stop. Even with his back turned to him, Lukas sensed there was something else he wanted to say, words in want of being said, teetering on the tip of his uncontrollable tongue.

"And, uh, Nor. Just so you know... I do wish things were different. Seriously."

Lukas did not respond. Couldn't find the right string of words with which to justify this little revelation of his.

What was he saying? Was he saying that he loved him? Or that he wanted to love him? Or was he implying that he just wanted to be able to love somebody- anybody- without facing the possibility that they might die as a result?

Whatever the case, it wasn't bound to end well for anybody involved.

As unmoving as a corpse, he watched through the billowing steam of his drink as Mathias glided through the shadowy living room, and disappeared up the stairs.