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Ah, lost Carcosa.
Streets of gold, flooded bright, brilliant red. Skulls crushed and screams eaten, cold in the clutch of the murky, bloodied rivers… sheep, slaughtered as they held each other in the road.
Ideal date scenario.
Noel grimaced at the stickiness under his shoe. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but… couldn’t we have just gone to a café?”
“Please,” Kayne scoffed, squeezing Noel’s hand. The blood stuck between them oozed out with increased pressure. “I set this up myself!”
That was a very important piece of context. Noel’s gaze darted around at the gore and ruin, blood draining from his face. “Ah! Well, that’s… nice. Kayne, doll, what am I stepping in?” Please don’t be blood.
“Who.”
“What?”
“No, who.” Kayne explained as though Noel was a child. “That is a who that you’re stepping in, songbird.”
Oh. That’s. Oh. Noel does a shaky thumbs up, prompting a cackle from Kayne, who tugs their joined hands and speeds up. “Come on! It’s so nice when it’s quiet here.”
From the looks of it, Noel doubted this place would ever be anything but quiet. Cold winds blew through where literal walls had been broken down, claw marks and unmistakable handprints lining the stone in blood. Half of someone’s brain was on the edge of a windowsill, face included.
His eyes drifted back to where Kayne was skipping along, and down to their joined hands. Fuck. He was lucky Kayne liked his screams too much to kill him.
“Where are we goin’, exactly?” He chanced at asking.
“Date :)”
No use. Kayne would only tell Noel what he thought was necessary to know; even then he might not, just for fun. Just to see Noel squirm.
Noel swallowed to try and make his blush disappear.
He was lead up steps and through winding pathways, treated to one gory sight after another; the entire time, Kayne narrated like he was on a fucked-up safari. Noel just nodded, throwing out the occasional “ooh” and “teeth and all?” when it was needed.
Finally, Kayne took Noel to what might have once been a tearoom. What remained of the hostess was smeared all over the counter as they walked by, but Kayne paid her no mind as he pranced on through to the room upstairs.
Noel couldn’t help the gasp that came out of him when he entered past the stained-red lace curtains. The room was utterly devoid of anything gold, striking for a building in Carcosa; what was more, the blood stopped at the entrance. The only red in the room was the footprints trailing behind Kayne and the small flowers across the white tablecloth adorning the only table in the room.
Feeling Kayne let go of his hand, Noel took a few steps forwards, transfixed by the room. The chandelier was silver with dimly glowing blue-ish bulbs, casting a cool glow over the interior; fluttering silk at the other end of the room lead to a balcony showcasing a view of the bodies in the river. The carpet was plush, grey and well-trodden. White walls and tall pillars curved up into a dome ceiling painted with elegant blue flowers, shining chrome in the light.
Noel turned back to Kayne, who… wasn’t grinning as he normally did. The expression that was usually smug and insufferably sharp was calmer, more anticipatory.
“Kayne,” Noel said softly, eyes still wide. “What is this?”
With a small smile exposing sharp canines, Kayne tipped his head to the side. “A gift, darling. A tearoom. Entirely mine, now entirely yours. Not a speck of gold about the place.”
Before Noel was able to process that absolute bombshell, he was being ushered to one of the cushioned chairs on either side of the table now loaded with fresh triangular sandwiches and tea. “Sit, boy! What’s a date without a bit of munchies?”
Noel took his seat. In… his tearoom. It seemed…
“Seems suspicious, doesn’t it?” Kayne winked at him from across the table as he shoved a sandwich into his mouth. “Good to see you’re still sharp. And you know what? It’s entirely on a whim. I thought ‘hm, what could I do that would both bring a little smile to my favorite soldier’s face, and piss off Old Yellow’? And wham!! Giving one of his prison-broke dead ends a whole room in his kingdom.”
Relieved, Noel sighed and began to begrudgingly eat as well. He’d been craving ham and cheese anyways. “Thank fuck. I was NOT gonna believe it was the goodness of your heart.”
“You can have one, if you want.”
Noel held up a hand to stop Kayne, who was already undoing his own tie. “Ah-ba-ba. I do not, and will never, need one of your anatomical hearts.”
Kayne pouted. “But-”
“No.”
“Fiiiiiiiiiiiine.”
They settled into comfortable silence, Noel content to eat and Kayne content to watch him like a fascinating bug. The sandwiches were nice, given that Noel had been living off diner fast food, and the tea was just on the right side of scorching. It was honestly the least painful thing Kayne had ever done for him.
“What’s all this about?” He asked with one hand over his mouth to keep crumbs in.
Kayne blinked at him from across the table. “What’s what’s what?”
Noel waved his sandwich in the general direction of the table. “You’re being weirdly non-violent.”
“Oh!” Kayne laughed. “Well- I’ve been doing some thinking, my dear. They say the sweet tastes better after the sour; soooo… if I treat you well, it’ll feel all the better when you get hurt. When I hurt you.”
Ah. Of course. The look on Noel’s face at that was enough to make Kayne giggle.
“So sick of you,” Noel muttered as he finished off his tea.
“You love it.” Kayne was on the table all of a sudden, crawling across it with decorum disregarded like the feral lizard he was.
A smile flicked the corner of Noel’s mouth upwards as he tilted his head to look at Kayne, feeling a bloodied finger aid his chin’s lift. “I do.”
One smooch on the forehead and Kayne was off the table, pulling Noel’s chair out. “One more thing to show you. Consider this an early birthday.”
“My birthday’s months from now.” Noel dusted his coat off and stood, not bothering to wipe the blood from his face where Kayne had kissed him.
“That’s why I said early, idiot.” Kayne rolled his eyes and took Noel’s hand again.
Back out of the tearoom, Noel found he didn’t even mind the constant smell of decay and iron. His eyes were still watering at how intense the smell was, but it was… familiar. Like the war-torn battlefields he’d spent years on.
“Thinkin’ about war?” Kayne guessed correctly. Or maybe he-
“Stop reading my mind.”
“Sorrryyyyyyy~”
After a few more minutes of walking, Noel’s suspicion began to rise. They were winding inwards through the streets, towards the palace that sat at the heart of the city. Kayne wouldn’t… give him back, would he…? He was too territorial for that. Or- Noel hoped he was.
“Hey, doll…?” He started cautiously. Kayne hummed, not looking back, so he took that as a go-ahead. “We ain’t going to the palace, are we?”
“You’re so clever.” Kayne’s grip tightens around his hand. “No running, now!”
Noel swallowed, trying in vain to slip his hand out of Kayne’s grasp- no dice. Despite the amount of blood slicking the way, Kayne still had a firm grip and wasn’t letting go.
Dread began to build in his stomach. Up those golden stairs, bloodied with the guards- how did Kayne get this far without Hastur stopping him- and climbing until Noel was panting and shaking, Kayne not slowing his pace for a moment. The thousand steps had Kayne practically dragging Noel up the last few, and when they reached the top, Kayne was still fresh as a daisy.
“Ta-daaa!!!” He proudly announced, releasing Noel’s hand and sweeping his arms to the platform.
And the figure on it.
Gold robes fell in dull swoops, pooling on the floor and blending into the red blood like the fabric faded to liquid at the ends. Shards of porcelain, stained gold and black, scattered across the platform; torn ribbons from broken dancers adorning the wet trails. The horns of the King, made to herald his presence with booming roars, lay crushed beneath the bodies of their musicians. Each body seemed to blend into the next in a series of jagged swirls, all leading up to the largest pile of bones in the center of the room.
The corpse of the King in Yellow.
Noel took a long moment to process what he was seeing, looking between Kayne and the giant body. Kayne, who was beaming with stars in his eyes. The body. Kayne. The dead body of the King in fucking Yellow.
“Was- was that you-?” He pointed to the mess, hand shaking.
Kayne nodded eagerly, biting his lip as if anticipating something.
Noel dropped his arm, letting it fall against his side. “…Why?”
“Well. Okay, here’s the part you won’t like.” Kayne clasped his hands together. “So, we actually visited him a while ago, when he was trying to rebuild his city after my first visit. Ahaheh. And he was like whaaaat?? Kayne you bastard, is that my squishy little detective?? And I went yes siree it is! Mine now though. Haaahaaa. And then he tried to get you back, so I took some drastic action (mostly for funsies), and then I was like well this would make a great surprise… So naturally I erased your memories and waited a bit, massacring the innocents and setting up the tearoom, all the good stuff. And here we are!”
That was a lot to take in.
“You erased my memory??” Noel barked at Kayne.
Kayne rolled his eyes dramatically. “God forbid women do anything. Did you even catch the rest???”
And then it did catch up to him. Kayne had killed Hastur. And he did it for Noel. Not as an afterthought, but as a defense. Noel had seen what Kayne could do to people before they died. He had been one of those people. He had no doubt that whatever had happened to Hastur was ten times worse than anything he went through in the pits or the trenches.
Before his brain could process what he was doing, Noel grabbed Kayne’s tie and pulled him in for a harsh kiss.
Kayne squealed in delight, throwing his arms over Noel’s shoulders. When he pulled away he was breathing hard, pupils dilated almost comically.
“I knew you’d like it,” he whispered, licking his lips before diving in for more.
God help Noel. He did. He loved it.