[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke

Xion had nearly died from the poison.

Somewhere between the ache and the relief, he'd found a strange sort of peace.

A stillness that only came after one had stared death in the face so many times that it stopped being frightening.

Because it really wasn't the first time he had died.

Considering the life when he came to Eldorai for fun, and then his life back on modern earth, this was his third life.

So, when the healers told him he couldn't be treated through ordinary means as his body still rejected others' mana, he hadn't reacted much.

There was no need when Darius continued to wrap him in a cocoon of his own mana. A warm embrace that followed him like a second skin.

Hence, Xion had become more reckless. More spoiled. More whiny.

One moment, he complained that it was too hot. The next, he was shivering from the faintest breeze that slipped through the curtains.

But Darius never scolded him. Not once did the Archduke raise his voice or show irritation.

Even lovers wouldn't have this much patience, Xion mused, sitting quietly on the old rocking chair near the balcony. The worn wood creaked softly beneath him, in rhythm with the wind outside.

A breeze brushed past, tugging at strands of his hair. They tickled his cheeks.

He reached up and frowned. "I should get my hair cut," he murmured absentmindedly.

The purple-haired cub beside him, who had been fiddling with something on the floor, sprang to his feet.

"Can I do it?"

Even without seeing, Xion could tell the way those purple eyes must be sparkling.

After arriving in the North, this silly knight had become oddly self-sufficient.

Back in Faymere, it had been Xion who cut Noxian's hair. Now, the roles had reversed.

Is this what it feels like when your child grows up and no longer needs you? Bittersweet didn't even begin to cover the emotions he was feeling.

"Sure," Xion said with a small grin. "But you have to make me look handsome, okay?"

"Leave it to me!"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps, followed by the slam of the door as Noxian rushed off.

Xion chuckled softly. "As eager as ever."

He leaned back, letting the chair sway gently again, content in that fleeting moment of peace before it was broken by another door opening.

"Back so soon?"

"Who were you waiting for?"

That voice brought a bigger smile to Xion's face. "Done with the meeting already?"

"Yes," Darius said while walking toward the bed instead of approaching Xion immediately.

He first removed his outer robe, then walked over to the temperature-regulating crystals to adjust them.

"There wasn't much to begin with," he lied. There were tons of documents, and considering the winter ball, the rush was unusually high.

"Really? You didn't just dump all the work on those poor ministers, did you?"

He had. Darius had done exactly that. He wouldn't have left at all if it weren't for the letter they'd received.

Its contents matched what Bianca had told him. There was indeed an ancient forbidden way to restore Xion's vision.

But it required sacrifice, and Darius knew Xion would never agree to someone else paying the price for his healing.

So, he had chosen the second path mentioned at the end.

"Will you come with me somewhere in two days?" he asked while adjusting the bedsheets in a way that would keep them warm. "I need to gather a few things. We can take a short stroll."

Two days...

If Xion's memory served right, the full moon was that night.

Just what was his overprotective husband planning now?

"Sure. Take me wherever you want. I'm free, anyway." There were no more research papers, no more teaching them modern biology. Nothing at all.

"Had a good time with that brat?" Darius asked, looking around at the mess. Without complaint, he knelt on the floor and started storing the tools in the bag.

"Lazy time," Xion corrected with a smile. "And don't call your brother-in-law a brat, or I'll get angry."

Darius snorted. "He is a brat. Look at this mess he had left. Tools are everywhere on the floor. What if you get hurt? There are even wooden shavings and-"

He abruptly cut himself before looking up.

His darling was still gently smiling in his direction. Those gorgeous blue eyes used to fill to the brim with his reflection, and now they were hazy, devoid of even a single speck of light.

Yet, there wasn't the smallest hint of anger or annoyance on his pale face. Only a serene smile.

Why won't you get angry, Xion? I made you like this. I made you blind. So please... if you're going to blame someone, blame me.

Darius Rael Darkhelm was a cursed name to begin with. Didn't he know the consequences of getting close to others?

Yet he had done it anyway, and now his sweet Xion had to bear it.

"Darius, come give me a kiss."

That gentle voice pulled Darius from the depths of hell.

Since the incident, he had only dared to kiss Xion's forehead or cheeks. Anything more felt dangerous, like he might break him further.

"Could it be that you don't like me anymore?" Xion uttered with a pout.

That sentence shot straight through him.

"No. How could I ever—?"

He placed everything aside and pulled Xion into his arms.

"Never say something like that again," he said while settling onto the rocking chair with Xion nestled in his lap.

Burying his head in the crook of Xion's neck, he took a heavy drag. Even under the heavy scent of herbs, he could still find the sweetness that was uniquely Xion.

"I am not a good person, baby. I'm very greedy for you. What if I lose control?"

A gentle kiss on his ear halted his rambling.

"Am I not the same?" Xion was partially amused. "If you are greedy for me, I am too."

In fact, Xion doubted Darius was nearly as hungry for love as he was.

His hands, still trembling from the toxin's effect, wandered up to cup Darius' cheeks. "So, what are you waiting for?"

Darius raised his head slowly, but his fingers clutched the fabric of Xion's loose robe tighter.

"I will die without you, Xion. So, please, stay by my side, always."

Darius kissed Xion's forehead first, lingering there until he heard a soft hum of agreement.

Then his lips brushed over the closed eyelids that no longer saw, but still seemed to enchant him all the same.

A kiss to each cheek. And then, finally, he found his way to those slightly chapped lips.

The kiss was featherlight, almost hesitant. As if Darius feared that one wrong move would shatter the fragile person in his arms.

Xion, of course, had other plans.

He smirked against Darius' lips, and with a soft shift of his hips, ground down just enough to provoke a low, startled sound from the Archduke.

Darius pulled back slightly, eyes widening, but before he could utter a word, Xion caught his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

"You are teasing me," Darius whispered, nearly breathless by Xion's provocative actions.

The only reply was a soft laughter.

Much to his dismay, that single action had already ignited something deeper.

No one knew who moved this time.

A need that had been simmering under the surface — filled with guilt, love, hunger, all braided together — now came pouring out in a kiss that stole the air from both their lungs.

Darius deepened it, instinct taking over his rationality as his tongue slid into that inviting mouth, tasting the warmth and sweetness he'd been craving.

He kissed him like a man dying of thirst, like Xion was his only salvation.

Which, in many ways, he was.

Xion whimpered softly into the kiss, his fingers tightening over the lapel of Darius' shirt. Until finally, he turned his head away, gasping for air.

"Sorry," he mumbled, still breathless. "I... I couldn't breathe."

The reminder of his weakened body was sobering.

The poison might not be killing him anymore, but it had stolen his strength, spreading around his lungs in a glaring purple web.

Every puff was harder than it should have been.

Darius didn't try to kiss him again. It was his fault for that momentary lapse of his control.

I am truly a devil, he thought while trying his best to suppress the heat blazing in his core.

His baby was so weak, utterly putty in his arms, gasping, and yet he was reacting in this manner.

Taking a deep breath, he began peppering the pinkish face with gentle, fluttering kisses, trailing his lips over that cute nose, his cheeks, his jaw, even the tip of his chin.

It was silly. Ridiculous, even.

But it made Xion chortle. "It tickles," he muttered while laughing.

His first carefree laugh in days. This sound was worth more to Darius than any kingdom.

And of course, the moment was doomed when the door slammed open.

"Brother- You!"