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itwillbeall-dwight · 3 years

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the names to kill are the same to kiss

danny “jed olsen” johnson | the ghost face/felix richter; 5+1 things; post-canon and canon compliant; fluff and angst; canon typical violence warning; 4639 words

a/n: so after an involuntary hiatus, i’m back! and i wrote gay people. because of course i did. shit should be getting back up and running now, if you guys missed me for some reason </3

i’ve been working on this one for a hot minute, and i knew this was the wip i wanted to come back with, because this is my brand apparently and i’ve missed them terribly. featuring a trope i’ve never written for before! 5+1 my beloved you make structuring so much easier for my tiny pea brain.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

A good morning kiss

There was a dream he had been having, for a long time, since he’d left the fog. A knife in his hand, a face staring back at him, one with hurt and betrayal in the eyes. Muttered whispers of an apology. The knife shaking in his hand as he sunk it into the flesh. Smoke filled his lungs as he squeezed his eyes shut, the taste of iron on his lips. Where it would have caused distress in others, it had always brought him some comfort, if only because he could never quite put names to faces - in his mind, they looked smeared, like on an oil canvas. And so, despite the way his face twisted while he slept, this dream had never awoken him.

He was, however, awoken rather abruptly and rudely with the sun in his eyes, enough to make him scrunch his nose against his face with a grunt as he went to shield it from the light with a lazy hand. There was a light chuckle by the window, one that he didn't care to address, as he rolled over, back warm with the midday sun.

“Rise and shine,” a familiar voice called with an amused coo, sitting on the other side of the double bed.

“No.” Was a deadpan response.

“Danny, come on, it’s almost 1-”

“And it’s fuckin’ Saturday, Fel. Please.”

There was another laugh, soft and warm like the sun that had woken him, before a hand moved to hold his shoulder, enough to make Danny crack an eye open and look over his shoulder at the man who stared down at him. Christ, he always looked so perfect, casting a shadow over him with a gentle smile, not a hair out of place and already well dressed.

“...How long have you been up?”

“Since 6.”

“On a- fuck, on a Saturday? ”

“I work from home, Danny. I manage my own schedule.”

“And so you have to micromanage mine?”

“No, I just thought you might want to wake up before your coffee got cold.”

He looked over again at the small bedside cabinet where, sure enough, his mug sat, with lukewarm coffee inside. A laugh escaped him, as his eyes moved back up to meet Felix. “Oh, I can’t stay mad at you.”

“After what you’ve put me though, I hope not.” The smile he gave didn’t quite reach his eyes with the joke he told, as he leaned down to quickly kiss him. “I love you, and your awful morning breath.”

He laughed a little through the kiss, moving a hand to hold his face and keep him there for a moment longer, before Felix moved to stand and make his way around the bed, and out of the door.

“Breakfast will be ready in five.”

“Oh Christ, with the way you cook, I better get moving, huh?”

“Don’t be coming down in just your boxers, ja?”

“No promises, sunshine.”

You could barely catch his shy smile as he quickly left, the sound of his footsteps slowly descending down the stairs of the rather modest mansion they shared.

Danny let his face fall, swallowing as he stared at the blank space through the open door.

After all he’d put him through.

A late-night kiss

“How is it that one little girl can be so… much?”

The question was enough to make Danny glance over at the open kitchen from over the top of his book, pushing his glasses up his nose by the bridge. “Well, I’m sure she gets it from somewhere, Mr Meticulous Perfectionist.”

There was a short laugh, with the sound of flowing water and a glass being filled. “It’s funny that you think this is from me.”

“And it isn’t? You’re just as bad, you know. Part of the Richter lineage, I’d imagine.”

“And you’re saying you’re not an overdramatic know-it-all, Daniel Johnson?”

He sucked air in through his teeth at that sucker-punch of a formal first name with a slight smile, delicately turning a page between two fingers. “Never said that, my dear.”

“You’re just saying you’re better than I am, is that it?”

“Well, if you say so.”

Felix chuckled again, finally taking a seat on the sofa beside the man, moving to rest his head against his shoulder, glass in hand. He didn’t mention it when a cheek rested on his head soon after without a word.

Christine Richter was a smart girl. Charismatic, a natural people person, albeit one that tested the limit of people’s nerves at times, but at her young age, who could blame her? She was still learning, and growing, and seemingly enjoying every minute of it, despite her parents split. The summers she spent in the small manor in the German countryside with her father were ones she enjoyed well enough, finding much of it outside, playing with the other children when the family went out to the village nearby, or simply staying inside in the company of Felix or his newfound life partner, one which she adored as much as her father. Perhaps Danny was a bad influence at times, but he would never do wrong by her. That girl was his everything, especially with this new life he was leading.

As he reached the end of the page, Danny paused for a moment, before closing the book and resting it on his lap, enough to make Felix stir and look up at him from his shoulder perch.

“Had enough?” He asked, softly.

Danny didn’t respond, only answering the question with another question. “Do you… regret this?”

“...What in particular?”

Now that was a question, wasn’t it? One existential, almost, with many answers. Though he bit his tongue on that, for now, and simply responded, “Being a father, I mean.”

“What? No, no, of course not.” Felix sat up, now looking up at Danny, who seemed more aware of the things he had implied.

“I-I didn’t mean it as if you were bad , I just-”

“No, no, I know.” He cut him off before he could continue his panicked rambling to save his ass, something he’d gotten very good at, these days. “I suppose… I was always afraid, to mess up, because I wasn’t… in a stable place. And now I am.”

“With me?”

“If it had been anyone else, I don’t think I could have lasted this long.”

Danny hummed, a sly smile playing at his lips to hide the way his stomach dipped at those words. “High praises, from the perfectionist snob.”

There was a moment of silence, a beat, before Felix smiled, laughing as he gave him a harsh shove, keeping a hand on his shoulder to bring him in closer for a kiss on the cheek. “You’re lucky I’m a patient man, Danny.”

He sighed a little. “Oh, I most certainly am.”

After all he’d put him through, he was lucky Felix was a patient man.

A kiss in public

The winters in Europe, Danny had found, were a lot more enjoyable than those he was used to. Snow actually settled on the floor and created a crunch on his feet, making the early morning commute to the offices a little more magical than any other, with the twinkle of streetlights against the whiteness of the snow and the peach of the sunrise. That did not stop him from complaining about the cold, however, as he took a walk beside the architect much more familiar with the park than he was, arms interlinked with hands in the pockets of their jackets (or coat, in Danny’s case - he didn’t know how Felix could do it).

He watched the way Felix talked with a free hand, gesturing softly to help convey a point as he rambled from topic to topic, between his work (as much as he could confide without breaking legal agreements, of course) and other things he’d learned, indulging in the history of the city and the buildings of note that they’d passed by, his face aglow with a smile and the cold as his breathing was visibly exhaling from his face. It was always something he’d adored - despite how serious he usually was, there was always something to get Felix going with a grin, opening up a door into his brain that stored so much useless, charming trivia, until he stopped and his face fell with a-

“...Sorry, I’m not bothering you, am I?” He’d lost that spark for a moment, the fire dying out until Danny met his eyes again.

“Of course not. You never have.”

Felix chuckled a little at that. “I’m sure I have. When we first met.”

“I told you, Princess. It was love at first sight-”

“First stab?”

“Same difference.”

He smiled a little, looking down to his boots in the snow, stopping the two of them just in front of a bench left untouched with a thick layer of snow on its surface, encased in the glow of a lamppost. “So, I just wanted to say-”

“Are you proposing?”

“What? No, what? Not…” he seemed thrown off for a moment, looking around in a moment of flustered confusion, before looking back at the smirk on Danny’s face with a slight scowl. “Would you want me to?”

“Much rather you’d be wearing a little less, but-”

“Stop it!”

He laughed at the way his face lit up even more than with the cold, moving to hold Felix’s arms as he hid his face behind a hand in embarrassed frustration. “I’m kiddin’, Fel. I’m sorry, you know I can’t help it.”

“I… I was going to be all sweet, but you ruined it, you… you.”

“Me!”

Felix looked between his fingers at the grin shot his way, trying to suppress his smile as best he could before rolling his eyes and moving his arms around the back of Danny’s neck, kissing between his eyebrows before pressing their foreheads together. “Some things still haven’t changed, have they? You… you’re still just as irritating as ever. Adorably so, and I would not want it any other way, but…”

He laughed a little at that, though it rang hollow as he pulled him in closer into a hug, his grin faltering for a moment when he was sure that Felix could not see.

After all he’d put him through, some things still hadn’t changed.

A tired kiss

LOCAL MAN FOUND DROWNED, SOURCES POINT TO FOUL PLAY?

The cursor blinked on the screen at a consistent pulse, but still, he could not find it in him to move it, for neither corrections or additions. Hovering hands moved from the keyboard’s surface to pull his glasses from his face, resting them gently on the desk beside his laptop as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Danny tried to suppress a yawn that escaped him as an eye cracked open to the time on the screen - 11 pm. Better than what he thought it was, but it was still not ideal. He would rather be in bed, warm, and sleeping. But alas, he was sat in the cold, lonely study, with only a desk lamp and a cold cup of coffee to keep him company, the deadline of an article he’d lost the muse for looming like a foreboding shadow coming to slit his throat… and as he rested his hands against his face and closed his eyes with a huff, he almost wished it would.

Almost. As he felt the weight of a head on his shoulders and arms around him, there was a moment where Danny tensed, and his lesser instincts told him to go for the letter opener in the top drawer to defend against his attacker. But this was no such person, if the litter of kisses on his temple and jawline were anything to go by.

“...Hey.” He almost whispered, voice quiet and subdued for no one in particular, moving a hand to hold the arm that encased him as there was a tired hum.

“Bed, please.” Felix matched his volume but not his soft tone, both tired and needy.

“I’m almost done.”

“Liar.”

“I would never lie to you.”

The architect gave a doubtful hum, eyes scanning the screen through a strained squint, before he buried his head into the side of Danny’s neck. “You promised you’d be done soon. Please.”

He had, hadn’t he - he remembered that much at least, as the two of them shared a fast food box between the two of them over an old movie they didn’t know the name of. Danny paused for a moment, looking to the article and that blinking cursor before he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “I guess, for you, I can keep that arrangement.”

After all he’d put him through, Danny was making promises.

A kiss after a fight

The office door slammed shut in his face, leaving Danny alone in the hallway, running a hand through his hair in angered frustration. He paced for a moment or two, seeming content to shut his own door in some sort of take-that retaliation, but a better part himself (a part he wasn’t entirely sure about just yet, one that had only recently been curated and nurtured like some kind of shitty empathetic plant cuttings) told him no. But the words were caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say them. All he knew was that Felix was upset, and it was probably his fault.

He didn’t even know how it started - was it work? It was probably work - or how it had gotten so bad. Felix never lost his temper… well, almost never. The guy was still human, albeit better at being one than Danny was. Danny stopped again in front of the door, raising a hand and letting his fist hover over it, going to knock, before he let it fall again.

“Just… talk to me in a bit. You… don’t wanna see me, I’m sure.”

The walk down to the bedroom was slow, as the journalist kicked his heels against the carpet, listening to the way his worn-down shoes slid off of it. As he let his hand fall onto the doorknob, he stopped again to look down at the office again, hoping he’d imagined the whole thing. He hadn’t. So Danny went to bed, shutting the door behind him.

He didn’t know what time it was when he woke up again, but it was dark, and the curtains had been drawn, which he didn’t remember doing. It was the arms around him that stirred him, a head pressed into the back of his neck that made him move his arms gently, enough to hold the arms around his shoulders that bound him.

“Did I wake you?” A cautious, whispered voice asked.

“Of course not.” He lied.

A hum escaped him, as he shuffled in closer, moving to hold Danny a little tighter than before. “...Look, I-”

“Felix, don’t.”

“No, I’m sorry-”

“We can sort it tomorrow.”

“No.” He raised his voice slightly, a firmness to it, but no anger. “I… I need to. I don’t want you to think I never wanted this.”

Danny paused, moving his head to look behind him, at the face in the dark that had now moved to sit up. “What?”

“I… just, I don’t want you to think this has all been some… agency, after… after the fog. Some protection, so I knew someone after we escaped. I’ve always wanted this, for us. I’ve always wanted you.”

He swallowed, looking away for a moment, trying not to stiffen at the touch of lips against the back of his neck, and a whisper into the back of his shoulder of an ‘I love you’ and a goodnight.

It was never about agency. That had never been a problem, in Danny’s mind. Felix was kind, he was caring, he had people who loved him before, during, and after the fog. Danny was… quite the opposite. No one really knew of him, and those that did hated his guts and the ground he walked on. For good reason, of course. He could hardly blame them. But despite that… it was always Felix that came back to him, that wanted to offer his company - his kindness, his caring, his love. Danny felt a stone in his chest at that thought, that something so good was wasted on him, and yet, that man was more than content to do so.

He’d always wanted this. After all he’d put him through.

And as Danny closed his eyes, that dream came back to him once more.

+1. A kiss goodbye

They stood no more than fifteen metres apart, as Felix heard the sound of his own heart beating in his ears and the heavenly call of the hatch laying at the killer's feet. He looked down at the mist and fog that erupted from its lid, and then back up to the man who cast his shadow over it, a shadow that remained motionless, staring him down like meat in a butchers shop - with hunger. The architect swallowed, trying his best to remain composed, but he could not help but scramble backwards as the Ghostface took a large step over the hatch, and walked towards him, at a foreboding pace.

It had been a difficult trial. The four of them - Tapp, Laurie, Quentin and himself - had been taken to Ormond, a cold wind hitting them as they soon realised the ghost that they were up against, the tendrils of his cloak whipping around corners as he found home in the shadows, watching them. The detective had made efficient work of running around and causing a distraction, and both Laurie and Quentin had their own parts in maintaining constant pressure while generators had powered on, mechanical hearts beating twice over before someone had finally been taken by the Entity’s blessing of allowing the Ghostface to indulge just once, adding the sleep-deprived teen to his photo collection before continuing his spree. Only another generator managed to kick in before Laurie, too, met her end at the end of a hook (not before stabbing the Ghostface with her own makeshift weapon, the man’s cursing almost hilarious if not for the way he seemed to indulge in the anger and frustration of broken pride to hunt her down again), Tapp following not long after despite the way he struggled and dragged his body across the floor, leaving Felix on his own, the cold air of the resort making him see the air in front of his face as he let out a shaky sigh. A choice that, he was almost certain, was entirely intentional.

No one else knew of the nature of Felix’s correspondence with the killer, of course. If they did, that would have been a death sentence for what little trust everyone had for him. But the Ghostface was very particular with the way he operated with the two of them. He loved the chase - the rush, the danger, the will-he won’t-he with a knife between them… and while, yes, Felix didn’t care much for the violence, there was a part of him that knew there wasn’t much they could do with the world they were stuck in. Such was their life now, and even if it hurt him to watch a man he knew behind the mask kill him and his friends over and over, it was better than being punished for it. He would rather love him in one piece than two.

His back hit a tree, snow shaking from the branches and falling into his shoulder with a gentle thump. If he started running now, he could perhaps move around to meet the hatch… but he knew the Ghostface was smarter than that, he would simply walk backwards and close the hatch, letting the pressure build and play into the mistakes Felix made because of it. He’d never get to a door in time. It was over if he ran. And besides… some part of him didn’t want to. Perhaps he would take pity. Perhaps… he paused his thinking, catching the Ghostface in the light that bounced off of the snow.

And what he witnessed was… a shaking hand. A faltering form. Hesitation, restraint… humanity.

Felix watched the way his adversary stopped in turn, with the way he had halted against the tree, tightening his grip around his blade before a free hand slowly moved to grab at his mask, plastic crunching underneath the fist that grabbed at it before he pulled it over his head, and tossed it to the side, letting it rot in the dirt and the snow.

And there stood Danny Johnson, his friend, his lover, teeth gritting and shoulders shaking, snow landing on the top of his head as he looked up at Felix, sighing. “...Fancy seeing you here, huh.”

That was just like him. Pretending a problem wasn’t real if he didn’t admit it existed. But the architect played along, for now. “Well, you know… you know how coincidences are.”

“Right. Yeah,” It was like he was trying to laugh, puffing out his chest, forcing a smirk with a tilt of the head. “I’d think it was almost like you wanted to see me.”

“You… make it hard to not. You’re a difficult man to avoid, Mr. Ghostface.”

“Oh, oh? I’m too alluring?”

“Too dashing.”

Danny huffed again, the corner of his mouth twitching with the falseness of the smile he wore, taking a cautionary step forward to find his adversary did not move. “...You’re not running. Aren’t you scared princess?”

Somewhat . He bit his tongue. “Of you?”

“Of what else?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I am not.”

He continued getting closer, watching for any tenseness with a mindful eye. “Playin’ games with me?”

“I learned it from someone special.”

They were practically face to face now, as Danny looked up slightly to meet Felix’s eye, though it was still like he was forcing himself to look at him. And as a cautionary hand moved to hold his arm, running against the fabric of the murderer’s cloak, he seemed to lose that strength in his posture. There was no use in pretending, keeping up the farce.

Danny moved in quickly, letting himself fall into arms that Felix didn’t realise he’d had open, but was more than happy to fill, hands falling into place as if they’d always belonged there. “I don’t want to hurt you,” was the voice spoken into his neck, quiet, and uncharacteristically afraid, for someone of Danny’s grandeur. That scared Felix more than anything.

“I know, I know.”

“It makes me wanna, though. Compels me. It’s like, a… a hold on me. An obsession. I’ve never…” He paused, a gentle hum escaping him. “Well, no… I did this. I was always like this.”

Before the fog, he thought. Before the fog, with victims he didn’t know more than the cold, hard facts. Maybe that’s what was making this so hard. Felix moved to lean his cheek against Danny’s head, feeling the way the man buried his face in the side of his neck, and the way his glasses dug into his shoulder with the motion. “But you don’t want to. That’s worth something.”

“But I’m gonna.”

“Are you?”

“...I dunno. Maybe.” Danny paused for a moment, tightening his grip around the survivor’s waist to pull him in closer. “I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”

“You, apologising?” He tried to scoff, but he was cut off again.

“I’m serious. I’m… it’s rotten stuff, lovin’ me. You really have your work cut out for ya here, pretty boy.”

Felix swallowed, not sure how to respond other than shallow reassurances he knew would be rejected. Danny was… an odd one, with a massive ego and low self-esteem, not unlike a metronome with the way he expressed this. It was a crack in the facade that was a tell that he, like everyone else in the fog, was just a man, underneath the mask and his unnatural abilities, granted to him to aid him in a hunt in which he took no pleasure - it was all business. He moved his hands behind his back to release the killer’s grip, and hold his hands in his own, running a thumb over his knuckles, feeling the soft leather slick with blood, before he spoke in a tone that was soft, and patient.

“Hey, Danny?”

“Mmm?”

“Look at me for a moment, please.”

It took a second or two, but surprisingly, he complied, moving his head up to stand to his full height, his face wracked with guilt and uncertainty. It was so odd, on him.

But the architect’s soft smile did not falter, as he moved to kiss the man’s forehead, and moved a hand to hold his cheek. “You are not a rotten man, Danny. Not to me.”

A moment’s hesitation, before Danny smirked a little. “Even if I’m caked in blood and guts?”

“And there’s the man I love again. I don’t like you self-pitying much.”

A breathless laugh escaped the killer, an expression torn by grief cracking for a moment as he pressed his forehead against Felix’s, exhaling softly. “I love you. So much.”

He swallowed. It still sounded so odd, coming from him. “I love you too.”

“I love you,” he repeated, quieter, scared the world would hear him so vulnerable, despite everyone else around dying by his hand to make it safe to do so. “You’ve… made a man out of me. When this is all over, we’ll… get a nice place, we’ll settle down. I’ll go back to writing shitty gossip pieces just to wake up next to you.”

“You… want to move in with me?”

“You’ve done shit to me, Felix. Now you’re stuck with me.” A laugh escaped him, one that the architect found himself matching, moving to hold Danny closer, despite the way his arms seemed to stiffen at the touch, with a swallow. “Like a... dog. Wherever you go, I wanna follow.”

A light chuckle escaped him. “I would not want it any other way-”

The knife slid into his ribs so easily before he could finish, enough to make Felix splutter with the sudden pain that flared like fire in his chest, making it hard to breathe. The soft smile faltered with the shock and realisation of what was happening, as eyes trailed down to the blood seeping through his suit, and the hilt of the knife sticking out of his skin, attached to a shaking, gloved hand.

Another hand moved to his waist, firm and steel in its grip, stopping him from moving as the knife twisted in deeper. Danny’s breathing was shallow, though still carried weight to it, like mildew. “I’m sorry.”

Blood spilt from his mouth as he responded, straining from the pain, a hand digging into the cloth of Danny’s cloak against his shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“Fuck, fuck , I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he repeated, swallowing hard, focusing on the pain to remain conscious, as he moved away to look Danny in the eyes again. Eyes that did not want to meet him, until Felix took hold of his face again, and smiled. “We’ll… we’ll have a chat later. I love you.”

He didn’t respond, only looking away, closing his eyes as the architect moved closer, further into the knife with a forced strength, running a thumb across his cheek to make him look again.

And then, in a selfish move without restraint, Danny leaned in to kiss him, leaving only the taste of iron on his lips before Felix collapsed to his knees, exhaling a final breath, a swirling fog marking the end of another trial.

After all he’d put him through. He’d always wanted this.

#dead by daylight #ghostfelix #the ghostface #felix richter #prove thyself #off the record

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