Aster tries to roll the tension out of his shoulders as he makes his way up the stairs, but it’s not going away any time soon. He should have asked when Niko would be home and made sure he was gone before they had a chance to run into one another, but maybe that conversation had to happen. Niko could probably piece together exactly who Aster is with a few hours of dedicated digging, and sure, maybe Nash is right that it would be fine—but Nash has no idea what's really at stake. No one understands how far Aster's parents will go to get what they want. No one would stop them; they're too powerful, too well-connected.

He's almost to his room when Layna's voice cuts through his thoughts. He barely breaks his stride, but she's persistent, catching up to him at his door.

"Aster." Her smile is nervous, stretched too thin across her face. “Everyone was so worried about you. Sable said you’ve never disappeared overnight before, and we even tried to do a tracking spell, but it didn’t work. But then Sable said you know about that sort of thing, so you might have done that on purpose—made it so you can’t be tracked. Or maybe our spell wasn’t very good…”

“Okay.” Aster turns to his door as he fishes in his pocket for his key.

"Hey." Her voice softens, and then her fingers are trailing down his arm, coming to rest on his bicep with a gentle squeeze. The hallway light explodes behind her in a shower of glass and sparks and she lets out a surprised yelp and startles back.

Aster keeps his face carefully blank even as his heart slams against his ribs. This is going to be a problem, because he’s very not okay with that. Her wide eyes widen further as he calms himself enough to activate his more sensible defences and lets malice seep out of him.

"Sorry," Layna stammers, stumbling backward. Her footsteps fade down the hallway as Aster faces his door.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a breath that does nothing to steady him, then unlocks his door and steps inside. For a few days, everything was almost... simple. Nash made it simple. He let Aster be exactly what he is—a little weirdo recluse—and somehow made it okay. Nash took care of him without trying to fix him. It didn’t make everything better—his trauma isn't going anywhere—but at least he felt steady.

Now reality comes crashing back in, and Aster's alone again. He'll have to double down on being unapproachable, build his walls higher. That burst of uncontrolled magic is a warning sign he can't ignore. He has to stay careful—always so fucking careful—because he's always been volatile, even before he collected all this trauma. Maybe his parents had a point about him having too much power, but they can go fuck themselves. It's his power, and he's not giving it up.

A traitorous part of him wishes he could just call Nash up on his non-existent phone and make him come over here. He could watch Nash strip down, shift forms, and then Aster could just... pet his stupid fluffy head for a while. Would that help ground him? Or would it just complicate everything even more? This thing with Nash is uncharted territory. Aster can't tell if he's subconsciously trying to manipulate some benefit out of it through sentiment magic, or if he just wants... what? Comfort? Connection?

But anyway, he shouldn’t do any of that. He’s beginning to realise that Nash has put himself on a leash and handed the other end to him, and Aster’s reluctant to yank it. It would feel wrong to take advantage, to push for more. Aster doesn't know what Nash really wants, and he's even less sure what he could offer. It took a lot of drugs to make him capable of having a normal relationship, and he’s never even had sex sober. Hell, he's not even sure he knows how to be a proper friend. He's tried his best to drive Nash away, to avoid the whole mess, but Nash is stubborn as hell.

It would be easier if Nash would just give up.

It's tempting to reach for his magic, to try to make his feelings disappear, but Aster knows better now. If he wants to be himself—really himself—he can't keep locking away the uncomfortable parts. Even if it's hard sometimes. Most of the time. All the time. But he does want to be himself, dammit, even if that self is a mess.

#

As Nash pulls into the driveway, he’s still mentally debating the moral implications of jerking off in the guest bedroom to the lingering scent of Aster. He’s pretty sure that getting off on fantasies about someone you have a crush on is normal enough as long as you don’t go telling anyone about it, but does pillow sniffing cross a line into creeper territory?

He’s so deep in his own inappropriate thoughts that he physically jumps when he walks through the front door and Niko rounds the corner from the kitchen.

Niko's eyebrows lift as he holds out a delicate cup. "Tea?"

"Yeah, sure," Nash says automatically, though he can count his lifetime tea-drinking experiences on one hand. Niko's never offered before, which probably means they’re about to have A Conversation.

Niko leads the way to the kitchen. "Aster is interesting, isn't he?"

“Uhh…” Nash says, because agreeing seems bad after Aster just put all that effort into explaining how much he doesn’t want Niko’s attention, but he can’t think of a way to disagree without being obvious. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Niko hands him a steaming cup, his expression thoughtful. "I was examining that sacrificial dagger while you were gone, and I've reached a troubling conclusion. If I hadn't been away, you would likely be dead right now. I would have had to consult a book to translate the demonic text to get a name, and that would have taken too long. Even if I'd thought to try sacrificing an object, I'm not sure I own anything with the right emotional value."

Nash takes a tentative sip of tea. It's sweet and... planty? He doesn't hate it, but he doesn't get why people make such a big deal about it. "But that's life sometimes, right? You get lucky, or unlucky. I'm just glad it all worked out."

"Of course," Niko says. "Even so, despite Aster’s protests about it being luck, I dug up Sable's number so we have a way of contacting Aster if there’s an emergency. I'll text it to you.”

Nash nods, then quickly redirects. "What do you know about the sentiment magic stuff?" It feels safer to discuss something Aster's already admitted to having talent with.

"Not too much." Niko leans against the counter, cradling his cup. "It's not a common approach. Using materials for power is more reliable—but expensive. I can see the appeal of sentiment magic if you can't afford proper gemstones. And it's always smart to follow your natural talents, even down unusual paths."

Nash fidgets with his cup. "After everything happened and I got him home, I offered to replace the earring. He seemed on board at first, but when I started asking questions to try to find something similar, he completely shut down. Told me to forget it. That was because I couldn't replace the sentiment, right?"

Niko gives a thoughtful nod. "That seems likely."

"Maybe I could get him something else, though," Nash ventures. "Not to replace the earring, but... something new. Something sentimental. Do you think he'd like that?"

Niko holds up his free hand in a gesture of uncertainty. "He's your friend, not mine. The magic will depend on how much genuine feeling you put into the gift. Is it meaningful? Have you put real thought and care into it? Your intentions are what matters."

"I want to do all that," Nash says. "But how do you put thought into a gift for someone when you don't even know what they'd like?"

"You could make him something," Niko suggests. "It's hard not to put sentiment into something handmade."

"Yeah, if 'intense shame' is a useful sentiment," Nash mutters. "I don’t know the first thing about crafts.”

Niko waves off his concern. "I can help. I have materials in my room."

“You’re not too busy?”

"Not this time." Niko sets his cup down. "My family doesn't have the most raw talent or natural power, but we make up for it with hard work. I was homeschooled, and now I'm doing home-higher-education one week a month. After what happened with you, they went easy on the homework. Since Aster seems to have everything under control here, it feels right to use that extra time helping you help him."

"Okay," Nash says, hope building. "How do we do this?"

They migrate to Niko's room, where he spreads out an array of jewellery-making supplies: delicate chains, tiny pliers, and jars of beads in various colours and materials. Nash peers into each jar, feeling lost. If Aster usually picks jewellery for magical purposes, what does he actually like?

“I don’t know where to start,” Nash admits.

"Do you have anything meaningful of your own?" Niko asks. "An old keychain charm, a toy marble from your childhood, any small item with personal attachment?"

Considering the childhood he had, Nash hasn’t exactly kept hold of much from back then. Except… 

Without a word, Nash heads to his room and digs his old backpack out from the depths of his closet. Once, it held everything he owned. Now it's mostly empty, a relic from another life. Back in Niko's room, he rummages through it until he finds a beaten-up pencil case.

Inside is an odd collection: some pens, expired condoms, a protein bar that's thankfully still sealed. He feels his ears heat up at Niko possibly seeing the condoms—like maybe Niko will demand an explanation about sex as if it's some alien concept. But if Niko notices, he doesn't say anything.

At the bottom of the case, Nash finds what he's looking for: a small plastic bag containing a canine tooth. He fishes it out. “I lost most of my kid teeth when I was on two legs, but I lost this one when I was in wolf form and it stayed a wolf tooth. I thought that was cool, so I kept it." He turns the yellowed fang between his fingers. "That's sentimental, right? Though maybe he'll think it's gross..."

"That's... certainly sentimental," Niko says carefully. "But Nash, that's a part of your body. Or it was. Giving something like that to a magic user might not be the wisest choice."

“You think he might use it to hurt me?”

"No," Niko says carefully. "But you haven't known him very long. It's hard to be completely sure about anyone, don't you think?"

"He saved my life," Nash says, more defensive than he means to be.

“He did,” Niko agrees. “This isn’t anything personal against him, Nash. It’s just something that I wouldn’t advise in general.”

"And generally, yeah, I get it. But this is Aster." Nash closes his hand around the tooth. "This feels important. I need him to know he can trust me, and the best way to do that is to show him I trust him."

“Because he saved your life?”

"Not even that." Nash runs a thumb over the tooth. "I know this probably sounds stupid, but it just... feels right. Like nothing else ever has."

"Hm." Niko considers this, his expression thoughtful. "My instinct is to argue. My whole life centres around cold rationality. But maybe I shouldn't push that on you. Werewolves operate on instinct—sharp, intelligent instinct. For me, following my heart over common sense would be foolish, but that's the root of your intelligence. If you feel this strongly about it, I won't stand in your way. Just remember—Aster is a magic user, like me. We’re a tricky bunch. Be careful.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t pretend to be simple or easy to get along with.” Except towards you, Nash reminds himself, and hopes he isn’t giving that trick away. "Can you help me make this into a necklace?"

Niko shifts into teacher mode, showing Nash how to smooth the tooth's jagged base and create a delicate wire cage to hold it. They choose a leather cord and antler beads to compliment it. Nash isn’t sure Aster will like the aesthetics, but Niko assures him the materials alone make it valuable. Ethically sourced werewolf teeth are a rare commodity, and any magic user could surely appreciate that.

Anyway, it ends up looking like something that someone might wear rather than a children’s crafting mistake, so that’s something, at least. 

Now Nash just has to figure out when to give it to Aster. Showing up at the boarding house the same day Aster left would scream desperate and clingy. Even if those feelings are squirming under Nash's skin, he'd rather not advertise them.

Aster makes it easy for him by simply not being online… for almost a week. Nash is sure he’s been blocked again, but when Aster finally does sign on, he hasn’t gone up any levels. 

Nash accepts his silent party invitation and they play for a while without speaking. They’re trying to fight the boss at the end of a dungeon, and they keep dying because you’re clearly meant to have a group bigger than two. Aster keeps leading them back every time they die, though, and eventually they both lock in and figure out a rhythm. It still takes them a couple more tries to get it, but finally the boss falls.

The loot is garbage compared to how hard they worked for it, but that's what they get for being stubborn. Besides, the victory itself feels pretty sweet. Nash knows he only has moments before Aster either logs off or picks a new challenge for them, so he types quickly:

Can i come see u at some point? got something for u.

Lunchtime tomorrow. Bring food. Aster replies, drops a waypoint link, and that's that.

As they continue playing, Nash is already thinking about what he’s going to make Aster for lunch tomorrow. Are muffins difficult? He starts searching up recipes the second they finish.

Turns out muffins aren't too complicated, though he has a moment of panic when he realises they might not have muffin cups. He sheepishly knocks on Niko's door, and thankfully he's still up. Apparently they have silicone baking cups. That isn’t what the recipe says to use, but Niko assures him it’s fine.

While they’re talking, he lets Niko know that he’ll be busy around lunchtime tomorrow. He doesn't technically need to report his schedule to Niko, but Nash owes him everything. The least he can do is be reliable.

Any wolf would look down their nose at him for the ways he acts sometimes—for being so eager to please, for chasing after Aster's attention like a puppy. He's big, he's strong; he shouldn't be so... soft.

But this feels natural to him, more right than all the posturing and dominance games other wolves play. He wants to protect, to provide, to take care of people. Maybe that makes him a bad wolf by their standards, but watching Aster eat something he made, looking after him—that feels more right than anything else ever has.