For the first time in years - the first time in his whole life, really - Doefreckle was happy. Stupidly happy. The past week he'd been cheerful, talkative, full of life, in the best mood any of his clanmates had seen him in either before his death or after - he could feel the sun again, smiled when he heard the birds in the morning, had been eagerly volunteering for patrols and going out of his way to socialise with the Clan, sweet and upbeat and extroverted, like his old self except this time it was all truly, unashamedly genuine. Then Shadedsun had come back, and being reunited wasn't what he'd thought it would be, and he'd spent the last two days quiet and grieving, hardly leaving his nest and not eating, everything grey and empty. That morning, even through all the exhaustion and the dried tears, he was still excited. There was new guilt that came of slipping away from camp, away from Shadedsun, to meet Hywel, but the guilt was small and hurt - Shadedsun was living his new life, he didn't want him; Hywel did. There was also wounded frustration - Shadedsun expected this sort of behaviour, this sort of deceit, from him, and he couldn't tell him it wasn't the same thing, couldn't tell him he had changed and wasn't the same thoughtless tom he'd known, because he wouldn't believe him. Oh, Doefreckle has a new boyfriend; make sure to rub it in for everyone.

But he'd tried not to let all those thoughts ruin the morning he'd spent getting ready. He'd woken early, and when all his clanmates had left the den to hunt or garden or go on patrol, he'd sat up in his little floral nest and carefully groomed his fur in the close warmth, his hurt and fatigue trying to undo all the good and his newfound hope and happiness fighting back against it. He'd hoped meeting Hywel again would be all restless energy - he had so much to tell him about his week and he'd imagined he'd just launch into excited babbling the second he saw him. Now, he felt quiet and tired, if still happy. His smile was real, just weary. During any other heartache, he'd have skipped breakfast; because he thought Hywel would notice he hadn't eaten, he forced himself to eat. Then, carefully avoiding Shadedsun and feeling his heart ache with tired grief at needing to, he'd slipped out of camp.

Now, creeping up behind Hywel as best he could because he'd seen him before the other tom had seen him and he couldn't resist despite the fatigued glaze over his eyes, his fur was neat and sweet-smelling from the patch of honeysuckle he'd rolled in. When all his efforts came to nought and Hywel spoke to him, Doe let out a purr and stood up straight. "The, uh-the city?" he replied, limping over to stand beside him and look at him directly. "Hi, by the way," he added warmly, gently bumping his head against the silver tom's fluffy neck. "The city. Well, I haven't been since the League moved in, obviously, but I've spent some time there. It's nice, if rats are your thing." He grinned at Hywel.

"I'm not lying," Doe replied, with that kind of indignation that came from being misunderstood. "I like new things. Ugly things are beautiful things to someone else. I like how loud the city is, and how you can take a wrong turn and get totally, completely lost, and how no one there knows your name or even cares. It's pretty, too, to me. I'm not SummerClan personified." Despite his stern little frown, he didn't sound mad, and he wasn't - at one point the frown disappeared entirely and he was just wide-eyed and wistful and full of wonder. He melted into an amused little purr, all the sternness vanishing into softness. A laugh bubbled out of him. "It's just the cats I don't like." He looked up at Hywel with his eyes all bunched up in a taunting smile.

You showed me all the highlights of your home, I should be able to do the same. Doe tried to stop himself from looking unabashedly smitten when he gazed at Hywel. His heart squeezed in his chest; he'd never had someone do something like that for him, take the date planning out of his paws and let him just be wooed. Except for when Shadedsun had shown him around the blossom gardens and the firefly meadow, but he'd ruined that night by brutally rejecting him. Doe pushed the memory away, determined to not let the painful yearning distract him from all awed, how happy, how warm he felt in that moment. Hywel's insecurity about his home was also unbelievably endearing.

When the League tom winked at him and went on about protecting him from ruffians, Doe just held his gaze with a I'm rolling my eyes on the inside but also you're insufferably cute, unimpressed expression, one brow slightly raised. It faded a second later when Hywel offered him his paw. He looked down at it, fighting back a smile. It slipped through eventually. With a quiet purr, he placed his paw gently on Hywel's - his broken one. He'd never done that for anyone, had never offered the vulnerability of his injury, the one he usually tried to keep out of sight behind his tail or his good paw. A moment later, he dropped it back to the ground, still looking at Hywel with a tilted head and a small smile. "Lead the way then," he said softly.

You'll love it. Doe smiled back at Hywel with something almost like timidity, his eyes bright and admiring and uncertainly trusting, like he was taking a risk just by letting himself be swept up like this. He wasn't used to being treated like this and his expression completely betrayed it; usually so sure-footed, now he was having to leave everything to Hywel. It was an anxious feeling, like all his previous experiences were trying to tug back against the relief, the rush of sweet joy, at having genuine effort put into him by someone else. His wounded heart beat a little softer. When Hywel cozied up to him, he met the warm affection with just as much.

He purred along with Hywel's sly jokes, delivered so cheerfully - it sent another rush of relief, of recognition, to be with someone who wasn't just pure sweetness. Doe trot-limped along beside him. "No," he agreed, smiling at him, "but the tour guide's cute."

How was your week? Was it completely pathetic that no one ever asked him something like that? He was suddenly acutely aware of being... not touch-starved, he wasn't that, but starved of emotional connection. Everything was meaningless and light in his life and the warmth with which Hywel asked the question, like he genuinely cared, made his throat close up. "It was good!" he told him happily, relieved when his voice sounded normal. And it wasn't a lie like it usually was; it had been good, for a while. He wasn't going to tell him about Shadedsun. They weren't... He tried to tell himself it was because Hywel wasn't his mate or anything like that and wasn't owed any information; the truth was he did want to tell him, for some stupid reason, but it was too confusing, too painful, too soon. He hadn't processed it yet. "I caught a bird! That might not seem like a big deal but I, y'know, I can't hunt very well so if I do manage to catch anything when I try it's usually just a slow little vole or something down by the river. But I actually signed up for a hunting patrol and I caught a turtle dove in mid-air and everyone was so excited. It's dumb," he looked down, smiling sheepishly as his ears reddened, "but it made me happy. To not feel useless."

Oh you, making me blush with your sweet whispers in my ear. Doe glanced at Hywel with a rabbit-ish little smile, sheepish and silent; he was the only tom Doefreckle had ever known who could make him shy, thrown off balance. It wasn't that he never meant the things he said to other toms, all the dirty little jokes and sweet flirtations and double entendres delivered with such an innocent grin; he fell in love easily and all at once, and though he may have meant little of what he said at any other time, he always flirted with his whole heart. Romance and flings, strange as it might sound, were the only times Doefreckle was completely honest, completely laid bare, completely at someone else's mercy. Maybe it was because Hywel seemed so confident, like nothing Doe said could rattle him, that made his flirting hit the mark so well when he did it back and left him giddy. Maybe it was because he flirted back at all - in recent years, Doe had gotten used to being the one pushing and pushing and retreating back with a delightedly smug little skip, to being the one in control. Maybe it was because he wasn't trailing after Doe like a lovesick puppy, or because this all just seemed like a game to him when Doe had gotten accustomed to feelings, or because there was still something gentle about him when that might have made another tom cruel...

This wasn't falling in love, though, he told himself assuredly; he wasn't going to do that again, at least not for a long time. And not with Hywel. He was just a temporary distraction. He reminded himself to tell him that at some point; just a fling, because even a friend with benefits was too permanent...

Usually they're pretty tough unless you happen to have pretty powerful hind legs. "Yeah, well, you know me, total chad," replied the twink with a little giggle, shooting Hywel a crooked grin. Wouldn't it usually be harder to catch something when someone else is hunting nearby? "Mm," he hummed, looking back the way they were going. "Honestly, I'm not very helpful, whenever I actually do go. You're supposed to help the other patrol members hunt, especially because in SummerClan the main prey is rabbits and hares, which you really need team work to get - one to go down the burrow, another two to wait outside, or however many to form a wide circle and drive the rabbit where you want it to go, stuff like that. In NightClan it was much easier because mice are, y'know, nocturnal, so you'd go out to hunt and just- the whole forest would be rustling. Then you had to compete with owls, but we turned that around and started hunting them. So I spent a lot of time in trees before my accident. But here everyone knows I'm not much help so I really just sun myself on a rock and offer moral support while the rest of them are doing all the work." He let out a warm little purr, eyes all pushed up in amusement. Then he realised he was not only babbling, but babbling about hunting. He didn't even like hunting. Or - a horrifying thought - he used to, back when he could actually do it, and now all that nerdiness was resurfacing. Hywel's easy warmth was infectious and dangerous - he felt like he could ramble forever, too comfortable and too at home. Heart feeling full despite his embarrassment - who else made him feel embarrassed? He hated this - Doe offered Hywel a small, apologetic smile.

"So, where are we going? Are you gonna tell me or torture me until I turn into such a brat you regret bringing me along at all?"

Doe had dragged his eyes away from Hywel - difficult, when he'd been stumbling over his paws gazing at him, face soft and heart all warm and fluttery and treacherous - to look around him at the city. Now among the shadowy alley ways, piled high with cardboard boxes and dumpsters and black rubbish bags, and the grimy, towering buildings that made the sun shine in stark angles on the streets, and the broken windows, he was captivated. He looked around at it all, turning his head this way and that, and missed most of what Hywel said about pigeons and rats; he was just too breathlessly in love with the awful beauty of it all. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly open, looking like a flower who'd gotten swept up in a dream of all things dark and terrible.

Hywel's laugh brought him back to earth. You're going to spoil the secret! Doe looked back at him a little bleary- and wild-eyed, giving him a distracted, breathy little laugh and a soft, crooked smile that was a little sharp at one edge. He looked slightly drunk, caught up in this new world. Then he followed Hywel's gaze to the church and sincere, gentle awe settled back over him. His breath caught in his throat; for a moment, he just felt... quiet. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, like the city had taken everything dark and melted it in with everything pure. Doe's head tipped back as he limped along beside Hywel, taking in the stained glass window, the heavy wooden doors, the towers and carved arches and weather-dark stone, the way the sun cut half of it in glittering light and the rest in deep, secret shadow. "No," he replied, voice barely more than a breath and eyes still on the church. He glanced at Hywel, eyes wide and pupils dark in the gloom of the city, even as a shaft of dusty sunlight caught a bit of the white fur above his eyes and made it glow. "No, I've never been to one." The corner of his mouth twitched up slightly into a tiny, inexpressible smile, a quiet burst of breath escaping from between his teeth.

That was rare for Doefreckle - to never have seen or experienced something before - and he felt another indescribable rush of feeling for Hywel. Someone to surprise him, to adventure with him, to take him places he'd never been before and show him things he'd never seen - that was all he'd ever yearned for. He remembered, faintly, like it was some distant memory, how stand-offish and haughty and imperious he'd been when he'd first met the silver tom, all lofty dismissals and scornful looks. He reminded himself to get back there somehow, some time soon - he didn't want Hywel getting smug and thinking he felt more for him than he did. Because he didn't. The days of Doe trailing after someone gooey-eyed and lovesick were over - he was not going to fawn over him and get impressed by little date offerings. He wasn't. This was just a one-off, because a church was a pretty good surprise and it was hard to not be dazzled by it. But this was a once-off. He wasn't falling in love with Hywel and he couldn't have him thinking that. This was strictly business, for both their pleasure.

All those thoughts were half-hearted and hushed, however, some forced and distant protestation, argument, self-scolding. Because right then and there, Doe couldn't stop gazing up at the church with all the love in the world in his eyes.

Doe stayed close beside Hywel as they approached the cathedral, feeling hushed, melancholy, unworthy, in the most beautiful of ways - it was like the place was so sacred he could feel it in the air. When they pushed in past the doors, the scent of the air, the very feel of it, changed from what it had been outside - it smelled sweet, felt heavy, cold. Dust motes swam in shafts of sunlight; deep grooves ran up the huge stone columns, the stone cracked or indented in places from time and touch; the vaulted ceilings were impossibly high, taller than any tree; everything was beautiful, echoing, holy. The music filled every shadow, every corner, every part of the cathedral, of Doe; at first he'd slunk so ashamedly inside, and now, as Hywel slipped under the pew, he was left rooted to the stone just inside the door, everything arching up around him, staring down the aisle to the nave at the front. He couldn't move. He felt impossibly sad, impossibly happy, hopeful and doleful, weighed down by the beauty of the place - the colours washing over the front rows of pews from the stained glass window, the smell of candles burning and dust, the heaviness of the high ceiling.

It felt like the purest form of love, unselfish and unhurried; it felt like everything he'd always wanted, and everything he'd always been terrified to have, in case he ended up being unworthy of it.

Finally, catching sight of Hywel under the bench, he came back to himself enough to slip in quickly beside him, feeling like there was no air in his lungs, like they had been filled with cold and magic and perfect fear. He didn't return his smile, too wide-eyed and overwhelmed, but followed as he led the way up to the alcove. He put his paws down lightly, feeling like any slight sound, any movement, would echo and echo through the cathedral and make the music stop, make the very arches crumble and fall.

Doefreckle limped his way up the winding stone stairs, slower than Hywel; the old walls were close on either side, age-soft and cold. Halfway up they passed a small, dusty window set deep into the stone and Doe stopped for a moment to step closer and peer out of it in a little crouch, his forepaws pressed together on the windowsill and his nose touching the cold glass. The city looked beautiful and innocent from up here, no horror and darkness - just sunlight on streets and a leaf skipping across the empty sidewalk. Blinking slowly in the glow of the sun, Doe finally turned and limped up quickly after Hywel, giving up on his broken paw entirely and just hopping on three legs; it was quicker like that, and less painful, but he didn't like to do it when someone else was watching.

When Doe emerged into the alcove, setting his paw down gently once more, Hywel was already sitting on the stone. He gazed at the scene for a moment, at him, drinking it all in quietly, before limping over to join him, hopping up beside him. He looked down over the edge for a few heartbeats, feeling momentarily fearful of the height after having lived so long on the ground; but he dragged his eyes up a second later, forcing himself to relax into the sweet air and the music. Everything was gold and black from up here, soft, like he was looking at it all through a faint, woven screen. It's beautiful, isn't it? Doe let out a quiet hum, so soft and fragile it almost died in his throat. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. To be shown something new, so secret and sacred and strange... The warm melancholy of the cathedral breathed itself over his heart, too pure to feel like sadness. Closer to peace, like something Doe had never known before.

"I thought I'd seen beautiful things before," he breathed, still gazing down at the choir. "But nothing like this. I never could have dreamed something so perfect existed, not in this world."

The atmosphere of the cathedral, like secrets could be whispered and kept, like there was safety here, like things could be allowed and forgotten once they were out in the sunshine again, finally broke Doe down. Lifting his eyes from the choir to meet Hywel's, he quietly shifted closer, pressing their sides together and resting his cheek against Hywel's. His fur was soft against him, already cold from the cathedral air and the stone. Doe turned his head, his nose tucking in to Hywel's thick fur and his forehead leaning tentatively against his neck; he closed his eyes and breathed in a quiet breath. The song continued on, beautiful and sad and endless.

His muzzle still buried in Hywel’s thick fur, Doe opened his eyes when the other tom licked the bridge of his nose, pushing the short fur the wrong way, and looked up at him with a softly disapproving, really? look. When the song slowly faded and the scraping of wooden pews against stone echoed through the cathedral, Doe turned his head to watch them, brushing his muzzle through Hywel’s fur and leaning his cheek against him so he didn’t break contact for a heartbeat. In his first life, Doefreckle had been incredibly physical, always touching, always leaning against someone or brushing under their chin or tucking himself under their forelegs where they sat like he was an errant kit. In this one, he was quieter, more withdrawn, terrified of physical intimacy, even with a friend, because he’d been hurt by it so many times before. As Doe became more honest, as he let go of bits and pieces of the sweet, boyish facade he’d cultivated, other parts of him became more repressed. To someone so unused to healing, bandaging wounds can get out of hand; before you know it, you’re casting off things that make you who you are in the fear that they, too, are hurtful, or fraudulent, or sad. In the fear that they weren’t a symptom, they were a cause. His night with Chim had been filled with touch, but that had almost been a night suspended in animation, a little snow globe filled with who they’d been, everything beautiful, everything that had made up the story they’d gently, peacefully, sorrowfully closed the book on come daylight. Since then, he’d felt himself closing in, growing… Well, not lost. In many ways, as sad as he was, he felt more like himself than he ever had. He was healing, was gently, slowly, running a paw along all the fracture lines and pushing things back in place. His reliance on physical touch had been a deflection, a coping mechanism, an excuse not to work on himself if he could have someone else do it for him, and letting go of it had left him feeling clearer, quieter, than he ever had.

But, fundamentally, Doe was made for love. And he did love to feel someone against him, more, really, than anything in the world; it was where he felt most at home, at the heart of the universe. And sitting there beside Hywel, with his cheek nestled in his pale fur and the warmth of his breath fanning over him and dispelling the chill of the stony cathedral air, with someone else’s heart beating against his own, everything he’d been and everything he was trying to be seemed to slot together and sink into place, unhurried, natural as breathing, as gentle as the incense drifting on the draught seeping in through the window behind them.

The feeling terrified him as much as it made his heart flood with peace. It was so confusing, all the things Hywel made him feel when he wasn’t supposed to have made Doe feel anything at all; and, worst of all, he felt like he knew the reality of what was happening, clear as day, and was obscuring it so resolutely in his own mind. It made him feel desperate and unsettled.

A mouse for your thoughts? Doe startled slightly out of his own head and lifted his eyes to meet Hywel’s. He offered a small smile. When Hywel nuzzled his cheek, he let out a brief, quiet purr, rusty and rumbling, before sinking back against him. Thinking then that he was being selfish, taking from Hywel and not giving, Doe shifted a little, still pressed close to the other tom, and lifted his head to rasp his tongue a few times against the fur behind Hywel’s ear, intermingling the licks with little nuzzles. “I’m sure they sing about the same things we do,” he replied quietly, nose still brushing the soft fur behind Hywel’s ear. “Uncaring gods, or beautiful ones. The hope of a simple life, or a glorious one. Death. Grief. Joy.” He hesitated a moment. “Love.”

His ears flushed and he ducked his head a little in irritated embarrassment, grateful Hywel couldn’t see his face. His eyes drifted up to the carved ceiling and all the cold air between him and it, the stone washed blue and red by the stained glass window behind them, Doubting Thomas and Christ and fingers pressed inside wounds. The word filled him with desperate, helpless fear and sent a little shiver through his body. It felt terrifyingly inevitable and he shielded himself against it - he didn’t want it. Didn’t want love, didn’t want to fall in love with Hywel. Especially not now that Shadedsun, everything he’d ever wanted, had come back. He was who he should have been with, who he should have been leaning against, not this… League tom. This League tom who’d brought him to this beautiful place, who’d snuck him in to towering ceilings and song that made his heart ache and air that smelled sweet and was filled with the magic of colour and glass and dust motes caught in sunshine, who was speaking to him so gently…

Doe felt impossibly happy and impossibly sad at the same time, and he didn’t know how it could be possible. The feelings circled around him like dancing wisps of smoke. He brushed his cheek back down from Hywel’s ear and drifted his eyes up to meet his gaze. “No one has ever done something like this for me before,” he murmured, quiet, so quiet.

Doe smiled, a small thing. "I'm glad you're in it now," he murmured, eyes as vulnerable as they'd been since he came back. "You would have been wasted on me back then." Then, like a thread breaking, he realised what he was saying and who he was saying it to. This was a fling - there weren't meant to be feelings involved. Suddenly flustered, Doe flicked his gaze down and took a step away from Hywel, closing off as suddenly as he'd opened up; he looked irked and ruffled, ears still up but facing slightly back, eyes staring down at the white shapes in the pews without really seeing them. He blinked more often than was necessary, like he was having to make a conscious effort to do anything. He didn't know what he was feeling, just that he was feeling a lot of it, but slightly muted - like he ought to have felt all these things more than he actually did. Guilty. Annoyed, with himself, his own predictable weakness, and with Hywel for the simple act of being stupid enough to spend time with him. Childish, confused feelings, all terrible and withdrawn and swirling and muffled. He couldn't quite pick any of them out, couldn't differentiate between what was fear and what was anger and what was longing. Wanting...

That only made him more frustrated with himself, and with that frustration came a lack of irritation with Hywel; soft, quiet fondness replaced it - he was kind to do this for him, and it wasn't his fault. He turned his head back to face Hywel, giving him a small, gentle smile. It was apologetic. "Come on," he purred, such a lost, quiet thing. He tilted his head towards a little window nook he'd glimpsed on the way up; it was a deep, narrow stone sill set into the cold, grey wall, on the other side of which was a tall, stained-glass window of oranges and yellows. Through the colours the city on the other side looked far-off and distant, like this was some realm removed from and above it. There was a small park just below, the tops of its half-bare branches rising up like fractures in the glass. With that same, small smile, eyes still locked with Hywel's, Doe slipped off the stone rail they'd been sitting on and led the way slowly to the little nook. He hopped up into it and lay down on his side, his back to the window and his eyes still on Hywel, his slow, quiet gaze still melded with the silver tom's; his calico fur was washed warm by the autumnal colours of the window. It was a silent offer - I want you close.

He could feel the coolness of the stone seeping under his fur, could feel the same coolness of the glass behind him; it made his breath feel chilled in his lungs. He didn't mind the feeling. "Hywel," he started in a quiet murmur, blinking with a strange sort of manufactured calm at the other tom, the calm he'd acquired as a leader that made him seem slightly distant; inside, he was in silent, desperate turmoil, confused and anxious. "I think... I just want to be sure we're on the same page. This is just a casual thing. No strings attached. I want you - I've wanted you since the night we met." That was a deliberate understatement; his nights had been filled with nothing but him for two weeks. But he couldn't say that; this was just a crush, one that would burn itself out with time, and Hywel didn't need to know the embarrassing details of Doefreckle's heart. "But that's all we are."

It was a lie. It was such a terrible lie. Doe's heart tried to tell him that; he forced it back down with crass, obstinate certainty. He and Hywel were temporary; there would be nothing more.