Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Note: Mostly just an exploration of the interaction between these two. I'm nearly finished with Tales of Graces and to be honest, it didn't impress me. At all. There were some parts where I was like, Yeah, this is cool. Cheria was a surprise. I didn't think I would end up liking her as much as I did. But overall, the game felt lacking.

Xillia 2, though, hoo boy. I'm not finished with it yet. I'm temporarily stuck on a boss, but I think it's a fantastic sequel. It really gives you a chance to explore the characters and the world better. Which is partially where the idea for this came from, despite the fact that it hit me much later when I was at work.

"I want someone who is fierce and will love me until death and knows that love is stronger than death and be on my side forever and ever. I want someone who will destroy and be destroyed by me."
-Jeanette Winterson (Orange is Not the Only Fruit)

"See somethin' you like?" Jude murmured sleepily.

Alvin glanced over, not pausing in the gentle ministrations on Jude's hands. "You should go back to sleep. It's hours 'til dawn."

Jude rolled onto his side a little, allowing his hands to remain in Alvin's. "Me? You need the sleep more than I do."

"I'll be fine."

Jude didn't believe that for a second, but he knew arguing would get him nowhere. Instead, he asked, "So, why do you find my hands so fascinating?"

Alvin made a noncommittal sound in his throat, but continued his inspection. He rubbed his thumb over the thick calluses on the first two knuckles of each hand, traced the long fingers; he turned it palm up, running his fingertips across the rough palms. They were a martial artist's hands, a fighter's hands.

And yet, so often, Alvin watched Jude healing people, helping them. He patched up hurts with a quiet smile, stared down the stubborn patients with an unimpressed tilt of his eyebrow.

Jude hurt things, hurt people(Alvin vividly remembers the spectacular bruises that had been splashed up and down his body after he and Jude fought. Remembers having trouble breathing from what he found out later were cracked ribs. And Jude had been holding back), but somehow, no matter how closely Alvin looked, his hands weren't stained with blood.

Not like Alvin's were.

But Alvin didn't know how to put that into words. "…Just marveling at how tiny your hands are." He pressed their hands together, fingertips to fingertips, palm to palm. Even though he had long fingers, Jude's hands were still a good inch or so shorter.

Jude rolled his eyes. "You woke me up for that?"

"Of course not." Alvin tossed him a wicked smile. "I woke you up for far more fun things."

Jude shook his head, turning over the rest of the way so he was curled into Alvin, head pillowed on his stomach. "No. 's too early."

"You honor students have no concept of fun."

"Funny, that's not what you were saying a few hours ago."

Alvin looked down at the dark head. "Y'know, you didn't have this smart mouth on you when we met, kid. I've been a bad influence on you."

A soft puff of a laugh on his stomach. "I wouldn't say that."

Curiosity tugged Alvin's words from his throat. "…What would you say?"

Jude turned his head so that he could peer up at Alvin from beneath his bangs. "About what? You?"

"Mm."

Jude propped himself up on an elbow. (This has something to do with Alvin's odd mood tonight. It has to. Sleeplessness is nothing new for the ex-mercenary, but this is something else) "I would say…that…overall, I'm glad I met you. Since the begin—well, not the beginning," Jude amended. "Being hauled around while avoiding gunfire is not the best first impression. But yeah, overall, you're a good thing."

"No regrets?" There was a wary lilt to the question.

Jude tugged Alvin down into a firm kiss. "None."