#maybe when im not dying under you share not ill write that dew/aeon enemies to lovers slowburn

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 9 - warming them up

Aeon and Dew navigating the beginnings of their relationship - this is set somewhat shortly after Aeon takes Aether's place in the band. As per usual, my Aeon is pre-summoned, works between the grounds and the infirmary and was hand picked by Aether himself to take his place.

this was a last minute thing so aldkjf please enjoy? <3 special thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting this together. I was too shy to join in on the fun last year.

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Aeon's hands are a strange amalgamation of warm and cold; his fingertips frigid like ice while his palms get tacky with sweat.

He thinks its mostly to do with his dual lineage; earth and quintessence.

It had never been much of an issue before joining the Ghost project full time; his hands spent most of the time buried in dirt in the gardens or sorting through tools and packaged first aid products in the infirmary.

Playing guitar, by extension, sometimes kept his fingertips from going icy, somewhat numb with it—but it wasn't an all the time thing, he thought, maybe when they'd start the tour, playing outdoors in the sun, he wouldn't have to worry about it, but in the somewhat frigid practice rooms at the church—

"Aeon," Dew's voice is sharp, cuts through his thoughts as he hits another sour chord, "Pay attention, we're trying to get through a new song," he says, trying for patience but coming across a bit mean instead.

Aeon's good at compartmentalizing, mostly, he had to be in the pits, and it's carried over through his summoning and his duties at the church, so when he catches Dew's tone, somewhat annoyed at him, he turns and looks at the fire ghoul, curls his fingers around the neck of his guitar, "Fingers are cold," he says, "Hard to feel where I need to go if I can't feel anything," he shoots back, somewhat snippy.

It's been building between them, since Aether's announcement and him bringing Aeon aboard—he'd searched him out before he'd actually told anyone about his plans, offered up his place and well, Aeon had always loved music, so why wouldn't he take the opportunity?

Dew had been mostly unhappy about it, he wasn't outward about his dislike most of the time, but he made it known in other ways—but again, Aeon had picked up on it after a couple of times, Dew's unhappiness.

He'd even asked about it, but Dew had just waved him off, said something bullshit about creative differences—whatever that meant, and continued on with this somewhat one sided feud.

And well, Aeon hadn't been trying to replace anyone. He'd made it very clear at the beginning, that Aether had asked him to step in, this wasn't Aeon shoving Aether out of the spotlight.

Dew's eyes dart from Aeon's face down to his hands, the dusky color of his skin not giving away the tingling coldness in his fingertips, before Dew's lips curl up into something unpleasant, just as his eyes do something complicated that Aeon can't quite place.

Silences stretches over the practice room, the others had sort of shuffled off to the side, watching carefully, making sure there wasn't anything bad happening, but for the most part keeping out of it, trusting the two of them to deal with their shit in a decent manner.

And then, Dew finally sighs and pulls his guitar off, moving across the room to place it down carefully, "Let's take a break now. Reconvene in about fifteen minutes," he says, his voice tired, so tired.

Aeon removes his guitar as well, placing it down with care—it had been Aether's, one of his spares, a rush of magic woven into the strings, a good luck charm for him, and he rubs his hands together, moving to go take a seat on the low stage, letting his legs dangle off of it.

The others clear out, though Aeon can see that Swiss stops by Dew, leaning down to speak into his ear, but when Dew's eyes go hard, Aeon focuses on something else, rubbing at the tips of his fingers individually to try and coax warmth from his palms back up into the stiff joints.

"The coldness is part of your nature," Dew says, stilted and jerky, he's standing just in front of where Aeon's sitting now, arms crossed over his chest, "Quintessence, right? Aether said you were half that at least, probably why it's just your fingers that get the worst of it."

Aeon watches him warily, flexes his fingers a bit, though the feeling doesn't seem to come back any, "Just my fingers," he says, "Sometimes my elbows and knees, but moving around helps keep that from happening," His fingers stop for a moment, and he tilts his head, "What is your problem with me."

A pinched expression takes over Dew's face again, his brows furrowing a bit, "Change this close to a tour has me on the edge," he says, it's robotic and somewhat a lie and he can tell the exact moment that Aeon sees through it.

"I'm not trying to replace Aether," he says, "I'm not trying to step in and step on anyone's toes. I'm just here to play some music for the band and for Papa. I'm doing Aether a favor while he takes some time away." He presses his lips together, "Whatever is going on with the two of you, I'm not going to be an outlet for your anger. Not if we're supposed to work together."

Dew makes a somewhat frustrated noise and rubs both of his hands over his face, "There's no fight," he says, "I'm dealing with this, whatever it is, but Aether and I have been on stage for many, many years and this will be the first time that—"

He breaks off, but Aeon knows where he's going with it, can smell the way his scent sort of goes sad, at the prospect of leaving behind someone so important, "Ah," he says, trying to tread carefully, "I don't think taking out your...misplaced feelings on me is how to get over it though?"

He's always been blunt, but even he winces at how blunt he sounds, the words slipping out before he can stop them and he expects a push back, for the sadness to bloom into anger, but Dew just snorts softly, amused.

"The mouth on you," he says after a moment, shaking his head, "But, as much as it pains me to admit, you're right." he moves closer, sits down on the stage beside Aeon—there's space between them, and Aeon feels a bit on the edge.

"Can I?" Dew asks, holding his hands out expectantly, wiggling his fingers towards Aeon's hands, "I'm not going to bite, even if my previous attitude says different."

Warily, Aeon offers one hand as a sort of peace offering and Dew just snorts, grabbing at his wrist and tugging it closer—there's a brief rush of brimstone before the warm tips of Dew's fingers make contact with Aeon's cold skin; almost instantly, warmth seeps into him.

"Oh," Aeon says, looking down at where Dew's got their hands in front of him, each fingertip pressed together as he gently pours magic into him, "Neat trick."

"Aether gets cold hands too, not just his fingertips, so I guess you might be a little lucky you don't have to deal with the whole thing, but we figured this out shortly after my transition. Fire magic heats up quicker and neutralizes the quintessence that causes the cutoff." Dew says, his voice low and slow, almost like he's lost in thought.

"So its a magic thing?" Aeon asks, he's offering up another olive branch, another token of peace, "Is there a way to uh. Help? Other than the fire."

Dew shrugs and lets go of Aeon's wrist slowly, allowing the other ghoul to pull his hand back, easily offering up the other one, "Might have to ask Aether. You're used to using mostly earth magic, right? That's what I can smell on you. Maybe if you give your quintessence an outlet more, it'll gather up in your joints less."

Aeon hisses at the rush of heat into his cold fingertips, shoulders sinking as he relaxes into it; "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, "Not too good at the quintessence stuff, but I suppose I could try it out." He hums, wiggles his newly warmed fingers. "Thank you."

Dew looks up from where he'd been focused on Aeon's hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"For warming me up," he says, rolling his eyes, "And I guess, for finally talking to me about the shit in your head." He nudges his knee into Dew's, "I know I'm not Aether, but I'd hope that my time in the band could be something fond to look back on one day too?"

"Oh," Dew says, licks his lips, seemingly out of words, "I, yeah. I think so. I think we can create something good with this."

The answer comes out a little weird, but Aeon feels Dew's fingertips press tighter against his own and Dew's knee come to rest against him and it sort of dawns on Aeon then, a secretive sort of smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he presses his knee back into Dew's, a hesitant step towards a new beginning.

#mushy may #dewdrop ghoul #aeon ghoul #the band ghost fic #my writing #maybe when im not dying under you share not ill write that dew/aeon enemies to lovers slowburn #ngl i wrote this with my dear husband in mind who said he loves enemies dew/aeon haha