Kross to Nightkill (ansgt, fluff)

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Here an idea popping up after a sleepless night of homeworks

**

No, Killer wouldn't understand. Cross really turned his back to Nightmare? To the team? To him? Killer couldn't believe this. Dust and Horror were also shocked about the news, but not as shocked as their teared teammate.

Nightmare was sitting on his throne, healing cuts on his shoulder, seeming preoccupied by the sharp feeling of betrayal coming from Killer. The said skeleton was feeling heavy and like his soul would shatter itself. Actually, his soul was violently morphing, trying to come back to its upside-down heart form in a very painful and forceful way. He couldn't handle the pain anymore and before anyone could catch him, he collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

When he woke up, it's to a headache, pain, and a deep feeling of emptiness. He was laying in his bed, under the covers. His soul was throbbing, making him remember Cross abandoned them for the enemy team. Killer felt his ribcage being heavy. A part of his life is falling apart again.

"The last time I felt you this negative were the time I found your AU."

The floating souled skeleton turned his head to see his boss sitting on a chair next to him. He didn't feel his presence in the room, and he was perfectly hidden in the shadows. The only colors are his bright cyan pupil and his red covered book. Book he closed when his stare met Killer's.

"You owe me an explanation, Killer. I thought I told you guys to have your life as long as it doesn't interfere with your health and your loyalty. I need you all alive and at your better form."

Killer stayed silent a couple of seconds to examine his boss. Boss which tentacles are moving slowly behind him, waiting for the other to answer. The sick skeleton closed his sockets and turned back his head to the ceiling.

"It was pretty obvious..."

"Was it official?"

"To y'all, yes. To the multiverse, no, who cares?"

*He opened his sockets again to stare at the wall in front of them. His mind wandered to remind him of the first time they kissed, in this room, just behind the bedroom door.

Killer was in the living room first, bored as much as he could, waiting for fun coming to him. He was on the sofa on the armrest. Horror, Dust and Cross came in then with snacks and they put the TV on to watch a movie. Horror sat first and then Dust claimed the second armrest, forcing Cross to hardly sit between Horror and Killer.

The assassin remembered feeling his soul jumping when Cross sat against him, at first, he didn't understand why. Then, it pounded during all the movie, spreading heat waves in his body and butterflies in his nonexistent stomach. He did not watch the movie, his consciousness wandered somewhere else without any consent of the brain.

He began to think Cross's hands crawling on him gently, sweet kisses that turned heated, his own arms around the other's neck, gripping his coat to take it off, tearing the shirt as the strong hands will pull up his shirt to let his ribs show... Then comes back to reality when he realized his thoughts. He was heated and embarrassed.

Not noticing the movie was almost ending, he did notice his hand being handle by the one he was imagining on him. He tried his best to not blush, asking himself how he ended like this. Cross's face showed nothing, and their hands were in the fluffy pocket of his coat.

They were really close. He did not remember when their relationship changed to this kind of proximity but that was a change. He began to imagine again Cross and himself, kissing passionately, their hands on the other's ribcage...

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