Judal had never used his would-be kitchen bar for more than an extra shelf in all the time he had lived in his tiny apartment. He suspected, though, that this was its intended purpose, and also why every other kitchen bar owner seemed to have the sense to own at least one stool.
For the better part of the last hour Judal had been leaned against the counter, watching Hakuryuu as he made breakfast. A stool to sit on would have been nice, Judal was pretty sure his legs were asleep from standing still too long, but he didn't mind. It was worth it to watch the prince bustling about his kitchen, livelier than he had been since arriving.
This wasn't the first time he had made a meal for them, but it was only the second time Judal had had the chance to watch him. The first few days after acquiring his new limb Hakuryuu had been up and moving long before Judal had even considered waking up. He couldn't imagine what it had been like to live with such a handicap, even for a short period of time, but Hakuryuu seemed elated to have full use of his limbs again.
"Open." Hakuryuu instructed shortly, turning on his heel and holding a spoon up in Judal's direction, hand underneath it so it wouldn't make a mess.
Judal obliged immediately, leaning up on his toes so he could reach the offering and taste whatever it was Hakuryuu was making. Hot syrup hit his tongue, tasting of apples, raspberries, and a hint of mint.
"That's fantastic." Judal praised, licking his lips. "Is it done yet? Tell me it's done!"
Hakuryuu did his best not to visibly preen, and only failed slightly. His ears gave him away, the tips always gave a little flick when he felt particularly proud of himself.
"Not quite yet, but I'm glad you approve." he said, turning back to the stove.
His wooden arm had been a little bit unruly for the first day and a half. Small gestures and reflexive responses came easily, but the first time he'd tried to pick something up he'd shattered a glass with the strength of his grip. Hakuryuu had probably not slept between then and when he finally seemed satisfied with his control over his new limb, exercising and testing himself like a man possessed.
Judal had heard of recuperation from major surgery ( which was the closest equivalent he could think of to replacing one's arm with a magical tree ) taking months, sometimes even years. He'd suspected Hakuryuu would be quicker than that, but it seemed to him that the prince had been uncharacteristically motivated.
When he asked about it- because when had he ever been the type to hold his tongue -Hakuryuu had told him that he was concerned about breaking more of Judal's belongings. However with the way his eyes cast over him, from head to toe, Judal guessed what he really meant was that he was concerned about breaking him.
Now, Hakuryuu's wooden arm moved with nearly the same practiced dexterity as his flesh and blood one. Sometimes Judal would hear him muttering about it not having quite the right reaction time or something of the like, but if that was the case he certainly couldn't tell.
Breakfast was eaten on the couch and coffee table, as it was most mornings. Judal sat there bouncing his knees in anticipation, having been banished from the kitchen for the last few minutes of cooking.
"You're better at this than me." Judal complimented, after Hakuryuu arrived with two plates stacked with perfectly golden pancakes.
"I've been cooking substantially longer than you." Hakuryuu pointed out. ( His ears flicked again anyway. )
"Yeah but last I checked you didn't even know what a pancake was when you got here. Now you can make 'em off the top of your head!"
Hakuryuu made a face at the memory of his confusion over the nature of a pan-cake and Judal laughed.
Things had changed since that first morning together, and they kept changing more and more as time went on. When Judal stopped to think about it, the shifts in their relationship were almost daunting, like a constantly moving current that he could easily be swept away in. There were so many ways things between them could have ended up, many of them unpleasant, and yet here they were. A mortal and his faerie companion, sharing a breakfast of pancakes and apple-raspberry syrup in their pajamas.
Judal wouldn't change it for the world. He couldn't remember a time when he had been as happy as he was now, sitting side by side with Hakuryuu. The thought of when the prince would be gone from his life crept back into his mind from time to time, but Judal selfishly clung to the promise that he would be going nowhere until his debt was repaid. Judal had yet to make even one of his three wishes, and a part of him wanted to keep it that way.
However, regarding Hakuryuu sticking around; Judal glanced the prince over thoughtfully. He had seen him in this shirt before, and the sweatpants, though never in this combination. Naturally, Judal had done laundry since the last time they were worn, but that wasn't what he was thinking about.
"Say, Hakuryuu," he mused aloud. "Have you left the apartment at all? Since you got here I mean."
Hakuryuu raised an eyebrow at him while he chewed, answering only once he had swallowed.
"What are you talking about? We were outside together just yesterday."
"Okay, not the courtyard, that doesn't count. I mean like, have you walked around the city at all? Down the block? Anything?"
The prince sipped his juice ( berry and some kind of fruit from the courtyard, hand pressed ) before replying, his brow furrowed slightly.
"No, I have not." he admitted. "I do not think it wise I leave your threshold for too long, if I should do so at all."
"Threshold?"
Hakuryuu had to force himself not to visibly perk up at the chance to educate Judal more on faerie magic. The role of teacher wasn't one he'd ever fancied for himself, but there was something about how attentively his companion hung on his every word that made him want to explain the entire universe to him. He gestured around the apartment with his hand instead, drawing Judal's eyes around his living space.
"Places where people congregate, specifically where they live, have thresholds." he began. "They're a kind of magic that builds up over time; the longer an individual resides in a certain place, the more powerful the threshold becomes. Say a bloodline lives in a single manor for generations upon generations, the threshold there will be incredibly powerful."
"And a rented apartment, not so much, right?"
"Exactly."
"Sorry about that, then."
"Nonsense." Hakuryuu brushed the apology off with a wave of his hand. "Even the weakest threshold poses a threat to my kind. If we cross it without invitation, a great portion of our power is left at the door, this is the case for every sort of magical creature."
"So that's why in stories you have to invite things in? Because otherwise they leave their power behind?"
"Precisely. It can be dangerous, if not outright deadly, to cross a threshold unwelcomed. In some cases the threshold is powerful enough to simply vaporize a weaker fae."
Judal tilted his head in the way Hakuryuu had come to associate with his host making one of his astute observations.
"So, then, since I've seen you doing magic and stuff; are you missing a chunk of your power? Or does dragging your unconscious body inside count as an invitation?"
Hakuryuu smiled faintly. Judal was becoming increasingly aware of the intricacies of faerie law.
"It counts as an invitation to bring an injured being inside. You are taking responsibility for them, thereby offering up your home for their care." he straightened his back slightly. "However I'm also not even close to my full potential here in the mortal realm, so in a way I'm still at a disadvantage."
Judal didn't miss the hint of smugness in his voice, a grin curling his lips as he poked the prince with the handle of his fork.
"Someone is bragging!" he teased. "That's not very princely of you, you know."
"I am not bragging!"
"You are!"
"It's a statement of fact."
"Well, how's this for a statement of fact; you've been wearing the same ten shirts since you got here with like, maybe three exceptions."
"I could go without them."
The words slipped off the prince's tongue with such precise smoothness it took Judal a moment to actually catch their meaning. It almost slipped by him entirely, except that it was hard to miss Hakuryuu's eyes trained intently on him, focused on every minute shift in his expression. Judal felt heat rising along his cheekbones, threatening to turn the tips of his ears a rosy red.
The corner of Hakuryuu's mouth pulled upwards slightly, and there was a satisfied sparkle in his eye. Judal suddenly felt horribly tongue tied.
"What… I meant was," he managed to get out after a moment wrestling his heart back down into his ribcage where it belonged. "If you're staying here, we should probably get you some clothes of your own, yeah?"
Hakuryuu seemed to consider this, though as he did his eyes trailed over Judal with a kind of careless observation Judal hadn't been prepared for. Hakuryuu knew how to be subtle, he was in most things he did, so it said something that Judal could actually count the seconds the prince remained focused on his mouth before his eyes moved on.
And then Hakuryuu was back to himself again, eyes on his and posture straight.
"I see what you mean. I could simply create something new, the things I've grown in the courtyard alone should suffice for materials—"
Judal felt himself deflate slightly.
"—but I've never been much of a tailor."
Hakuryuu smiled when his host's eyes sparkled. In truth, tailor or not it was a simply matter of feeding his desires into his magic and creating whatever he wished, if not as pristinely as one of the trained fae back in the palace. However he was beginning to realize that, bond of debt or not, he had a difficult time saying no to his host.
It grew more and more trying by the day to deny him things, he found. Judal's delighted smile could go toe to toe with the most powerful spell of compulsion, in Hakuryuu's opinion.
"Finish your breakfast," he said. "Then we'll go out."
Common sense, in a loud and thoroughly exasperated voice, repeated for the umpteenth time that going out was probably not in Hakuryuu's best interest. Hakuryuu was well accustomed to dismissing the voice of common sense, however, and so it went ignored. At first brush he knew he came off as a terribly straight-laced individual, one who probably had a disdain for rule breakers and rebels. This, if his affiliation with an actual rebellion wasn't hint enough, couldn't have been farther from the truth.
More than anything Hakuryuu enjoyed having freedom of will, the ability to choose whether or not he made that incredibly bad decision. Was it a better idea to remain safely behind the threshold and avoid any potential consequences? Of course it was. But Hakuryuu had been antsy since his first week here, and Judal wanted to spend the day with him, and frankly he didn't care.
That didn't mean he was reckless though, he had the good sense to strap his sword to his waist before they left, looping the harness through the belt loops of the pants he'd borrowed from Judal. The weight of it at his hip was familiar, and he hadn't realized how much he had missed the security of being armed until his hand was resting on the hilt again.
"You know, swords went out of style around here like three hundred years ago. I think someone's going to notice that." Judal said, nodding towards his waist.
Hakuryuu blinked, then looked down at where his hand was resting. There was nothing remarkable about the sword to his eyes, but the faint shimmer around its edges assured him that the sword should have been under a glamour.
"…You can see this?" Hakuryuu asked, shifting his palm so the sword moved slightly back and forth.
Judal tilted his head.
"Well, yeah. It's sort of hard to miss a sword."
"Is that so…"
It should have been very easy to miss the sword. In fact, Judal's eyes should have glossed over it as if it wasn't there at all.
Now the he thought about it, Judal should have also walked straight past the courtyard the day they had their argument. Hakuryuu had been so busy drinking in his enthusiasm, and then feeling horribly guilty over his actions, that that had entirely slipped his mind. His glamour was meant to affect any mortal viewing the courtyard from the outside looking in, Judal shouldn't have been an exception.
Maybe Judal was just one of those mortals, with particularly strong senses, he supposed. Hakuryuu strengthened the glamour, a faint rush of magic slithering down his arm into the sword. Judal continued to blink at him without reaction.
Or maybe not. Hakuryuu thought, and then forced himself to stop dwelling on it any longer. He could mull over this development in his own time, it would do nothing to be preoccupied during their outing.
To Judal's credit, when they walked out the door and Hakuryuu's sword was still at his side, he didn't mention it again.
Crossing the threshold had been less of an ordeal than Hakuryuu expected it to be. He had paused to shudder as the magic pulled free of him with an unpleasant tug, and then waited for the inevitable fallout. A large part of him expected flashing lights and noise announcing his departure from safety to the entire world. Or skipping that entirely, some feral fae swooping down on him the minute he stepped onto the sidewalk.
Nothing remarkable happened, though. He stood there on the concrete for a moment, no longer shielded by Judal's abode, and the mortal world moved on. It was a little bit disconcerting to be out in such a wide space again without much in the way of limitations. The cityscape was cluttered with buildings large and small, and the chemicals in the air still made him want to gag, but there was freedom suddenly and it was dizzying. The fact that no one looked twice at him, no eyes lingered and no one lowered their head in reverence, was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating at once.
Hakuryuu suddenly had the urge to wander, which wasn't unusual for fae, but was an instinct he had reigned in considerably in his youth. He struggled between wanting to dart as far as his legs would carry him and being far too uncomfortable to do much more than stand there. The median was to just stay in one spot, nearly vibrating.
Judal was smiling at him, and this proved thoroughly distracting.
"Come on," he chuckled, holding out a hand. He had put on a collection of beaded and rope bracelets today, none of which matched. Hakuryuu found himself staring at them, wanting to know the story behind every single one no matter how mundane.
The prince reached out slowly, slipping his hand into his host's. Judal wound their fingers together, his grip warm and abundantly comforting, and drew Hakuryuu carefully to his side. Their hands remained clasped even after the prince had taken the first few steps, hovering between them.
"Not so bad out here, right?"
Yes. Your air is toxic and your ground is made of death and chemicals, you've eradicated nature and smothered the sky. This place is suffocating.
"No." Hakuryuu hummed, squeezing Judal's hand as if this would quiet the hissing voice of his darker thoughts. "Not so bad at all."
Judal kept their hands clasped as he led him down the street. Hakuryuu was glad for the chance to mindlessly follow his host, it gave him time to try and defend against the angry buzzing in the back of his head. His whole body was revolting at the idea of being out in the mortal realm, amidst their smog and concrete, and he had to focus hard to stop himself from being physically ill. The sunlight helped, though it hit his skin through a filter of atmosphere and buildings that just didn't exist in Sidhe.
By the time Judal was pausing in front of some large vehicle, Hakuryuu had compartmentalized his body's reactions enough to focus again. He wondered if they would be boarding the metal contraption in front of them, and sorely hoped not. It was spewing acrid smoke from the rear and Hakuryuu could smell the iron in its design. He would do it, if Judal asked him, but a quick glance at his host startled him.
Judal was looking at him thoughtfully, his lovely crimson eyes watching Hakuryuu's face with rapt attention. Hakuryuu wondered if he'd made a face at the sight of the vehicle, or if something in his eyes was giving him away. ( Some part of him wondered if Judal was just drawn to looking at him, as enraptured by his eyes as he was by Judal's. )
They stood there a moment, and then Judal looked away and led him straight past the vehicle and down the road again. Relief made Hakuryuu's shoulders sag, Judal squeezed his hand.
They walked for a long time through the concrete jungle that was the city. Hakuryuu stuck close to Judal's side, even when they finally released one another's hands. Judal knew where he was going, but Hakuryuu got the sense that he wouldn't usually walk to get there. It didn't bother the prince much, he had walked tens of miles in a day before and was used to it, but his host was going out of his way for him.
He resolved to make something special for dinner to thank Judal for his efforts, even if he would inevitably deny he'd done any such thing.
Abruptly, Hakuryuu's mind supplied several other ways he could pay gratitude to his host. His hands wandering beneath the hem of Judal's shirt, which always seemed to ride up over his stomach at least once during the day. He imagined discovering just how quickly that lovely flush from this morning could paint his cheeks. Such fair skin had to be sensitive to touch, Hakuryuu was almost sure he could simply run his nails down the plane of his stomach and leave marks in his wake.
The prince's steps faltered for a moment. The images flickered from his mind as quickly as they had come, leaving him somewhat stupefied. Oh he was used to thoughts of a carnal nature crossing his mind, especially around beautiful people like his host, but he'd gone so long without any he hadn't expected them. The oath was meant to keep such things under wraps, and for a moment Hakuryuu's heart seized as he frantically searched for the thread of magic still binding them together.
It was there, undulating between them to the natural sway of their heartbeats, just as strong a tether as when he had made his addendum to it. A feeling of undeserved relief passed through him as he lingered on it, allowing his senses to drift briefly along the length of the oath, feeling the strength of it holding firm.
Judal cast him a strange look out of the corner of his eye and Hakuryuu schooled his expression quickly. Reassured that his magic wasn't breaking down, he allowed himself another moment to think critically about what had just gone on in his mind. It occurred to him, firstly, that his thoughts had been far from violent. The oath was doing as intended, making sure he wasn't tempted to harm Judal in any way. It was just that the things he'd just seen himself doing had been far from harmful.
Damn. Well, this was going to add a layer of difficulty to interacting with his host from now on. If his mind was going to drift in the direction of bare skin and stolen touches, he would have to find a way to anticipate them. Though in retrospect, he probably should have expected this. Hakuryuu couldn't imagine anyone looking at Judal without at least one unsavory thought crossing their minds.
If Judal thought that he had been behaving strangely he didn't mention it, his attention drawn between the street in front of him and his phone. Hakuryuu saw something vaguely resembling a map on the screen, but from the way Judal was having to fiddle with it constantly he imagined his presence was messing with it somehow. They'd yet to find any solution to Hakuryuu's problem with mortal technology, and according to Judal's many forays into mortal lore, this was a common problem for fae.
Their destination revealed itself to be a strip of busy street where the concrete walls of the buildings lining either side had disappeared under the colorful banners of various shopfronts. The smell of smog became smothered under a hundred other scents that chose the exact same moment to assault Hakuryuu's nose; street vendors took up residence every few feet pedaling a different kind of greasy food. The noise of the city had grown, the congregation of mortals milling about a vague cacophony behind the movement of cars going to and fro.
"Come on, Hakuryuu."
Judal grabbed the hem of his borrowed shirt and led Hakuryuu through the crowd. No one looked at them twice, no one had since they left his apartment, and he had to ponder why there had yet to be a reaction to the fucking sword Hakuryuu was wearing. He wasn't complaining, mind you, because explaining to a police officer that a sword was kind of legal technically but not really didn't seem like a good time to him.
"Just point where you wanna go. This is the shopping district so there's a little of everything—I mean, not badass faerie armor, but just about everything else."
Hakuryuu grimaced as they passed a window crammed with mannequins possessing exaggerated, cartoonish expressions.
"Nowhere like that." he informed Judal. "Or that."
Judal looked into the shop they were passing, trying to gauge Hakuryuu's tastes. He grinned at his reflection as his eyes scoped over the scantily clad mannequins.
"You're not going to make me go somewhere boring, are you Hakuryuu?" he teased.
Hakuryuu bumped his elbow into Judal's. He'd yet to make any sign of wanting his host to release the hem of his shirt, and so he hadn't yet.
"I would never dream of taking you somewhere dull. It would be utterly wasteful of your vibrant personality."
"Wow! No need for mockery, jeez."
"I'm being quite serious, Judal."
And that made the second time that day that Hakuryuu pinned Judal with his stare, his words the same kind of sharp roll as a whip crack. Judal was mortified to find he had the same reaction, tongue twisting itself into knots and heart leaping upwards towards his jugular. At least this time he'd like to think there was no blush to account for.
In the end, Hakuryuu selected a more upscale shop that Judal had only dipped into a handful of times. He'd treated himself to one or two things from the sale rack before, but for the most part he'd just wandered and admired, wondering if he'd ever have the luxury of wearing something with a price tag like this.
Despite knowing very little about mortal fashion, Hakuryuu had impeccable taste. He went straight for the finest materials and the sharpest cuts, and where Judal gravitated towards dark jeans and soft cotton tops, he had set his eyes immediately on the slacks and dress shirts. When a salesgirl approached them, Hakuryuu gave her the kind of polite dismissal that only affluent people seemed capable of, voice civil but cold.
"I am not certain," Hakuryuu said once she had gone. "That any of these will fit properly."
Judal abandoned the shirt he had been eyeing enviously on the rack and went to Hakuryuu's side instead. The prince was frowning at a shirt he had unfolded, eyes critical.
"Well, look, that's the size. Grab the one that looks the closest to what'll fit you and then the ones above and below it and you can try them on."
"You know it takes considerably less time when the clothes are simply… made for you."
"Couture is expensive. I hear rich people get all their shit tailored to fit right, but that's out of my price range believe me."
He pretended not to notice Hakuryuu scoping his eyes down his body, taking in the state of the clothes he wore. Not bad, they clung to the right places and felt comfortable enough, but definitely not accentuating his body the way something custom made would.
"And is this place, as you put it, out of your price range?"
Judal nudged Hakuryuu's side and tossed him one of his cheeky smiles.
"Go try those on so we can figure out what size fits you best!" he said, avoiding the question altogether and pointing the prince in the direction of the changing rooms. A simple no would have been much easier, and much more convincing. Judal spent a moment wondering why he didn't just go with the white lie.
The last time Judal had gone shopping with someone else he had been eight, and it had been with a very tired foster mother in a thrift store whose racks were almost barren. There had been no changing room and her encouragements had been weary and lackluster, petering out altogether eventually. Judal could remember moving as quickly as he could to grab a handful of things within the budget she'd given him that might fit. Half of them hadn't, but he'd worn them for a year and a half anyway.
He had always considered the companionable shopping trips one saw on television to be idealized, as most things in media were, but he felt he might need to revise that opinion. Hakuryuu emerged from the changing room in a powder blue button up and a pair of grey slacks and cocked an eyebrow at Judal. It took him a moment to realize the prince was waiting on an opinion, and after a quick glance over him, Judal shook his head. Hakuryuu nodded and went back into the changing room.
After that, it was exactly like something out of a television show. Hakuryuu changed with the swiftness of a man who was used to doing things at a moment's notice, remerging every few minutes in something new. The pile of discarded clothes was far larger than the ones they both approved of.
When Hakuryuu was running out of things to try, Judal went darting around the shop snagging things off shelves and hangers and bringing them back to his stall. At first he tried to stay within the limits of Hakuryuu's chosen style, but eventually he just started bringing things he wanted to see him in. A pair of jeans that had been artfully acid washed, a shirt with too-long sleeves that bunched around his wrists and dipped too low at the collar. Hakuryuu didn't comment past an amused look, and indulged Judal's curiosity every time.
They whittled their approved pile down to a selection of shirts and slacks ( Hakuryuu absolutely refused the jeans ) of different cuts and makes that seemed appropriate for most temperatures. Judal prodded Hakuryuu into also selecting a pair of shoes, and was surprised when he went for a pair of women's ankle boots with short heels over the leather loafers to the left.
"Aren't those kind of, I don't know, impractical?"
"Not if one knows how to walk in them." Hakuryuu had hummed, glancing the shoes over.
"It's mostly girls who wear stuff like that, here."
"Well what do you think more intimidating, a man who walks on the flats of his feet with ease, or a woman who can remain poised an extra three inches off the ground?"
Judal took the point, eyeing the shoes and wondering if he had the money for his own pair.
( Hakuryuu selected a pair from the shelf for him regardless and simply would not be dissuaded from seeing Judal with them on. They fit snugly, and though standing on heels was a little strange, the smile that curled Hakuryuu's lips ensured Judal added them to their pile of purchases. )
They waited in line to pay, and it gave Judal a moment to consider Hakuryuu. When it was just the two of them, in his apartment, Hakuryuu had this easy slouch to his shoulders that suited the loose sweatpants and borrowed shirts he wore. He had started to look as if he belonged in the apartment after just a few days of being there, as if the atmosphere of Judal's home slotted into place around him and simply fit.
It stood to reason that standing there now, wearing more borrowed clothes with his hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, he should have looked the same. And yet, Judal couldn't help thinking him out of place. His shoulders were rolled back, his back straightened and expression one of muted indifference as he waited. Judal thought he looked comfortable in the upscale store, but with the way other people's eyes passed briefly over the prince, he got the sense he was exuding a cold austerity Judal just didn't feel.
Judal wondered what he looked like next to him, so not whatever Hakuryuu was. He got his answer in the form of the clerk politely asking if they were separate or together, casting an unabashedly critical glance over Judal. He didn't blame her, really, because Hakuryuu held himself like he was the most important person in the room, too important to even say so and instead just let people notice it.
A flicker of something crossed Hakuryuu's expression.
"We will be paying together." he answered the clerk, voice a smooth drawl that rolled through the air too easily to be natural. Judal caught the faint flicker of magic in his tone and fought down the urge to smile.
He watched the clerk's eyes go glassy. She smiled dreamily, nodding once before beginning to fold their things and tuck them into a bag. Her movements were fluid, too fluid for a normal person who even on their best day probably needed a half second between one action and the next. She just flowed from one piece of fabric to another, placing the shoeboxes in a larger bag side by side, and then handing all three over to Hakuryuu.
The prince took them, said thank you in a sharp voice as if cutting a thread, and then promptly turned on his heel to walk out. Judal followed him without question, the bag with their shoes in one hand, unable to fight the urge to glance around as they left. No store alarms went off, no one chased after them for not paying, and when they were halfway down the next street Judal laughed.
"And what was that, may I ask?"
"Compulsion. Just a little bit, she wasn't terribly resistant to suggestion to begin with."
Judal let his eyes map over the expression on Hakuryuu's face, his lips curved into a delighted smirk, eyes creased with nearly malicious amusement. The amorality should concern him.
"I could've paid, y'know."
Neither of them addressed the earlier unanswered question of whether or not the shop was out of his price-range.
"I know," Hakuryuu hummed. "But why do so when you could just as easily not?"
He offered his elbow to Judal, smiling when he linked their arms like he didn't notice the flush rising up Judal's neck again. The thought of lightly biting at the apple of his cheeks crossed his mind before he shooed it away.