Need to Understand

by TruthfullLies

Summary:

Only the two of them know, perhaps had always known, how punishing it must be to indulge into what's forbidden, what's not bound by the rules of existence itself.
Shadow Milk knows he's been made for this, not to grin maliciously at a disheveled, tired and crying Pure Vanilla, but to cherish him instead. A vulnerability he dares exhibit only in front of his other half, the one he secretly trust and hates the most. Someone he'll never get rid of.

But so does the king. Maybe an old fool, who lets such Beast ruin him to the bone each time he wants to, or maybe giving him the chance to improve every time, giving himself a chance to understand Shadow Milk and let himself be coddled until they don't fall asleep in the vanilla scented chambers of the king.

Notes:

I'm so anxious this is my first ever fic. I'm not sure how ao3 works or if my English is good enough but I for sure know I've always liked writing, and describing what I think emotions are is not easy, which is why I'll focus more on describing the abstract thoughts, actions and emotions of the characters (at least for now).
I'm not sure if I'll ever continue this fic or if there will ever be an end to it, what I hope for is that people enjoy my writing/encourage me or give me advice!

At times, doughs of the same soul yearn for each other.
They live together in a constant back and forth, a dance of intricate spiraling that goes on forever, bringing them everywhere yet nowhere, for the unknown is fathomless. Body tangled against body, but never with. The soul doesn't normally operate as one, although when it does Shadow Milk can discern the wearing droplets of milky icing sliding down his forehead. It's a feverish dream taking life right before him when it does, so hot, so exorbitant, it sets the body on fire and the mind high and lost. He does not belong, nor does it feel like he ever will, here. However, he is more than welcome in Pure Vanilla’s room anytime he has the need to.

“I love you.”

Pure Vanilla feels devoted to say every time.
That doesn't sit right with the Master of Deceit. He does belong to himself in his own being, yet that's not abundant enough of a proof to confute the hero’s saying, because the feeling that he does belong and he is meant for this it’s unfalsifiable, not that he would admit aloud anyway.

…

He sits atop of the mattress. Shadow Milk is not malleable in thought when it comes to his other half. He will always lie to himself and deny concepts that aren't his, no matter if they're similar or the same. He can't trust, or maybe he refuses to believe and regardless of what he pretends to believe, he would never be able to find any excuse for his own actions. How he lets himself be held so close and how he lets only Pure Vanilla do so to him, treat him this way without crumbling his head off with a snap of his fingers every time the other utters sweet, loving words and they hit him like a bullet to the heart. He hates, but he loves more than anyone else could because he is the second one to understand. Every so often he wants to sweep Pure Vanilla’s head off of his shoulders, but if he did then an important portion of that soul they share would dissipate into nothing, no one to understand, not a first nor a last. Hence he decided to spare the hero, or himself. Who knows?
Pure Vanilla pulls him closer onto the bed, and he exhales. It's not the first time they do this and his body knows what to do by heart, he can already feel the feverish dream settle in. The sight of Pure Vanilla’s robes sliding down his dough like a water droplet down a petal’s spine right after a spring rain is so refreshing to see and feel, as if spring itself is coming, as if the room is steadily shifting temperature just like seasons do. There is no talking and neither of them believe it's righteous for words to interrupt the growing hiatus beginning to surround them.
Pure Vanilla resembles a precious reality in Shadow Milk’s eyes and he doesn't plan on declaring it soon. Shadow Milk climbs on top of him. He places his hands on the pillow, on either side of the other's head and sits down on him with a gentleness that's surprising for his character. Pure Vanilla can finally see him smile: so perfect, so true. Genuine. He smiles back, and it takes just a few seconds before Shadow Milk presses his forehead against Pure Vanilla’s, waiting for those burning hot droplets to make their way, to melt from his hair due to the overly suffocating connection he needs, they both searched for a time now.