Between the Sky and the Sword (Sterling & Falin)

It was good to be together again. To have Savior as their stomping ground; to bring them together in spite of the distance that separated them physically. The game was quickly becoming their go-to for dates, for quiet hours sipping tea in cafes, for finding unique places to go and just… sit and watch the sky. There were monsters to kill of course, but for them the game became more and more about being together. It was easy to let go and be Laven and Menel. To let their cares fade away into nothing.

Which didn’t mean that they didn’t share the more private details of their lives. Every day something more was revealed. They became more familiar to one another with each passing moment.

Sterling’s suggestion that Falin seek out counseling weighed heavily on the swordsman’s mind. He took the idea seriously, and so when he had the time to spare he began to seek one out. It wasn’t a subject that he shared immediately, in fact it wasn’t one that he shared at all, not until one day he joined Laven at their cafe clearly upset. Menel’s face was simply more expressive than Falin’s was and thus his displeasure was written across it as clearly as the sunrise is written across the sky.

Laven’s brows were raised and his hand outstretched as soon as he caught a glimpse of the turmoil on Menel’s face. His long fingers catching Menel’s firm strong ones and leading him to sit beside him instead of his usual position on the other side of the table. “What has happened?” He was softer than Sterling allowed himself to be. But Sterling himself wouldn’t have ignored Falin in a similar position.

With just a touch of hesitation Menel took the seat beside Laven, leaning toward the other man unconsciously and grasping his fingers gently. Ever since their meeting in real life Menel had made an effort to be more gentle when touching Laven. Sterling was more fragile, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt the other man. Just touching him though, gentled Menel’s frustration.

“It seems…” They were Falin’s careful words coming out of Menel’s lips. Proof that Menel was upset. “That I will not be allowed to see a counselor.”

“Allowed.” Laven’s eyes narrowed and while Menel’s grip was gentle his grew tighter in his sudden flair of temper. “As in your aunt.” He heard very little about the mysterious woman who controlled Falin’s finances and entire life. But every detail that slipped through Falin’s lips made the teacher grow more and more bitter towards her existence. “She does not care for the idea, I take it?” His jaw was setting at a stubborn angle, less flattering than how he usually held himself.

“She seems offended by the very thought.” Menel lifted a hand unconsciously to touch his temple and soothe out lines that didn’t exist yet. “She said that my mental care is her concern alone.”

“Yes, I wonder why she’d say that.” Laven grumbled before reaching up and smoothing his own fingers over Menel’s temple and down his cheek.

“That isn’t right, you know.”

Briefly Menel closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of Laven’s fingers on his face. “It is her right by law.” His response was quiet, but he sighed at the words as if they bothered him. Blue eyes opened once more and he looked at the other man. “She refuses to pay for it, and there is nothing that I can do to change her mind once she has made it.”

Laven’s face was as stony and unhappy as his touch was soft and loving. “It is still wrong, my dear. And I think you know it too.” he sighed and shook his head. “I do not mean to put a damper on our date. I simply…” He sighed and drew himself back to rub at his own temple. “I want you to be well, and to stop fearing yourself.”

Menel smiled bittersweet and rough. “I sometimes think a thousand years could pass and I would never cease to feel the way I do now. That perhaps she is right.” He looked down at the hot drink that Laven had ordered for him and touched the edge of his cup with his fingertips as they were now barren of Laven’s touch. His shoulders hunched slightly and the defeated body language just looked wrong on him somehow. “She has said that she will not bargain with me on this thing and I am at a loss for what to do.”

“I have thoughts on the matter, but…” Laven sighed heavily through his nose before resting his elbow on the table, his chin propped up on his palm. He looked over Menel, seeing Falin through the avatar and feeling his chest ache for the swordsman. As if unable to bear it he reached out and placed his free hand on his thigh, warmth unable to penetrate Menel’s armor but hopefully comforting him all the same.

It did comfort him, and he managed a small smile as he lifted his gaze once more. “Then share with me your thoughts Laven. I could do with your advice.”

“I would need to look into your local laws,” Laven murmured, eyes sliding from Menel’s to his tea. He straightened and took the delicate cup before continuing, one hand a steady pressure on Menel’s leg.

“But you are an adult. And you may be able to take back control of your estate with the help of a lawyer.” he sipped the tea, a burst of lemon and roses on his tongue for a moment before the flavor vanished.

Menel nodded once. Sterling had suggested something of the sort briefly before, but he had discounted it then as an impossibility. Fighting his aunt seemed an impossible task to him. “I told her that I would fight her for you, perhaps it is merely time…” His brow was furrowed and he shuddered suddenly, thinking of what it would mean to defy her. “I do not know Laven, but she will make it as impossible a task as she can.”

“I do not know what else I can offer in advice then, love.” Laven sighed and put down his cup so that he could pick up Menel’s hand once again. This time he pressed his lips to the scarred knuckles, red eyes meeting blue over them before he released the swordsman.

“But I’ll stand beside you, however the storm blows.”

“You know not what you say Laven. If I defy her in such a manner her reaction will be beyond imagination.” Menel picked up his tea out of pure nervousness, needing the warmth. “I would not have you in danger.”

“I am not in danger now?” He sighed and leaned back in his seat, watching the other patrons as they went about their business. “Will you send me away to keep me safe? How long until she tells you I have to go?” He shrugged and drank his tea, crossing his legs and tapping his fingers on the table in an unheard rhythm.

Menel made a startled noise and felt a small surge of shame. “Do not think I have not thought of it, but to send you away would be to do us both diservice. I see you little enough as it is.” He sighed and shifted his tea cup without actually drinking any. Finally setting it back on the table without trying it. “You are right Laven. At any moment she can decide she has had enough and make my life… untenable. I have to do something.”

Laven rolled one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “We have come full circle. We’ll find a way, Menel. I am with you.” He winked, squeezing Menel’s thigh. “Two against one, as it were. Good odds.” He smiled, a full and loving thing that may have been an illusion. Laven was ever adept at hiding his true thoughts when he didn’t want to upset someone.

The one that Menel returned with however was the real thing for sure. Here the swordsman couldn’t hide how he felt, and Falin had never lied about how he felt about Laven or Sterling. Together they would make it through somehow.


Indeed, they only became closer and closer as time wore on. Though Falin’s work kept them far apart from one another - oftentimes a world away - it did sometimes come with benefits. One of those came during the summer, when Falin appeared in Ireland quite unexpectedly, texting Sterling out of nowhere that he was in the country and able to visit if Sterling was up for another in-person date.

With Sterling’s acceptance came a meeting place, and a time late enough in the evening that the sun would not be a problem for what Falin had planned. They met in the middle of seemingly nowhere, a field bordering the edge of a long dusty road where Falin’s car was already awaiting Sterling’s. The fencer was standing outside, dressed for the warm weather in a very light long-sleeved shirt the color that the summer sky had been before it turned night. It was Menel’s color, but it brought out the blue in Falin’s as well.

The arrival of Sterling’s car brought a smile to Falin’s lips and he lifted a hand towards the other man in a welcoming wave. When Sterling’s car came to a stop behind Falin’s Sterling returned the wave before stepping out.

He had also dressed for the season, his own long sleeves there for protection against the waning sun more than the summer’s lingering heat. His ivory hair in a loose braid that draped over his shoulder and off-set the rosy pink fabric. “Falin,” even his voice held a smile as he walked towards his boyfriend, both hands reaching for the other man so that when they met in the middle they could embrace.

Falin went smoothly into the motion, surprising himself with how comfortable Sterling felt in his arms. He pulled back perhaps a touch sooner than he would have liked, something hidden flashing in his dark blue eyes as his smile spread once more across his lips. “I have a surprise for you, and I hope you don’t mind.” He bent to the side and picked up a picnic basket from off the ground with a thick blanket folded neatly on top of it. “If you hate the idea tell me now, please.”

Sterling’s smile widened and he shook his head, reaching to take the blanket so that it wasn’t Falin bearing the burden alone. “That’s lovely, truly. Did you have a place picked out as well?” His heart had twisted happily when he saw Falin, and now it did so again at the sight of what Falin had planned. A picnic, something lovely and quiet and just for the two of them.

“I did some surveying earlier, and found a little hill just over there where we can watch the sky and see the whole valley beneath us.” Falin motioned with his free hand in the appropriate direction. “It’s not far.”

Falin switched the hand that was holding the basket so that his hand was free if Sterling wanted to take it on the walk out to the hill he had spoken of. The walk was made in companionable silence and the pair quickly set up the picnic where Falin had planned for them. It was as he had promised both close by, and a beautiful location. Here, the entirety of the valley was spread out before them, all the secret places that no one ever noticed living down there were visible in the fading light. Soon enough, the bright moon was rising, throwing everything into the soft silvery glow of that nighttime mistress. She made the world new in her image, and Falin laid out the meal he had put together for them on the blanket.

“Now, I can not cook, so everything you see was made by someone else’s hands.” Falin smiled briefly. “I may not be as bad a cook as I am in Savior, but I would not want to subject you to it just the same.”

Sterling simply laughed and took the plate he was offered. “You have the wisdom to admit it at least, which is more than I can say for Menel and his dubious culinary skills.” he shook his head at the little joke and looked over the obviously expensive food that Falin had brought with him. “This seems too much though. I would have been in heaven with a tin of biscuits and a thermos of tea if it came with you in tow.” He couldn’t stop his smile, looking at Falin as the moon cast him into a figure of marble and onyx.

Falin flushed in the failing light, glad of the shadows to hid his embarrassment. “I could not have you subsisting on biscuits Sterling, besides I have to eat too. I have a show tomorrow.” He laughed at his own words, but caught Sterling looking at him and the laughter faded into something more serious. “Is it really too much? I was not sure what to get to be honest.”

“Not if you were happy to buy it. Not if you’re going to help me eat it.” Sterling reached out and tucked a strand of Falin’s black hair behind his ear. “No, it’s wonderful. Really. And hopefully tastes as lovely as it looks.” He nodded his head to the food before reaching with a practiced hand and began to serve them both, making sure they each had a little of everything before either of them ate.

The swordsman waited patiently for his serving, offering a murmured thanks to the other man before he accepted his plate an settled it onto the cloth beside him. There was in fact a thermos and glasses, but it was not tea that lay inside but rather something a little more appropriate for their meal.

“So, you mentioned that you are available in two weeks on the weekend. Is that date still available?” Falin tried to sound casual, but even he could tell that he was leading a bit with the question.

Sterling sipped his glass of wine, raising his brows first at the obviously expensive choice Falin had made and then again at the question he was being asked. “I am. Are you going to be in town again? That seems surprising.” He popped a grape into his mouth, watching the Frenchman with interest.

“No, I will be in England actually.” Falin poked at his food for a moment then set it aside. “But, I have a gift for you that I hope you will accept. You do not have to but…” He trailed off before he could begin to convince Sterling that it was a bad idea and pulled an envelope out of the picnic basket and offered it to Sterling.

Fingers ghostly white took the offered envelope and turned it over, Sterling abandoning his own food and drink to inspect the gift curiously. When he looked up at Falin it was with a question in his eyes, though instead of asking he slipped the envelope open to look inside.

Tickets. To Falin’s exhibition in England and the plane ride to boot. Pale eyes looked at them in surprise, noting the seating for both being… of the very expensive variety. “Oh Falin…” He raised his gaze to Falin’s and gave a little shake of his head before smiling.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you.”

Only at Sterling’s words did Falin finally relax, the tension that had been nearly invisible in him through the evening vanishing without a trace. Only the lack of it made the fact that it had been there visible. “I am so happy you said yes. I have been waiting for the chance for you to have a period of time where you’re free and I’m not in a country where you wouldn’t speak the language.” He laughed gently. So much of his more recent time had been spent in Japan after all.

Sterling joined him in the soft laugh, tucking the tickets back into their envelope where they would be safe and in one place. Then he shifted and made sure his food and drink were out of the way before looking over Falin’s face. “May I kiss you?” He smiled through his request, the moonlight making him glow under her soft blessed light. There were so many stars in the sky, the view gorgeous and unforgettable. But at the moment all Sterling had eyes for was the other man at his side.

The way that his eyes darkened just so at the request, the way that his lips quirked in a slight smile and the way he looked at Sterling as though he were the stars in the sky. “Always.” It was a breath of an answer, spoken quietly but firmly. No hesitation or question in it.

The gap between them closed and like that Sterling dropped a gentle kiss upon his lover’s lips. He offered more, as many as Falin would accept, each time a care given to the dark haired man’s limits. Sterling murmuring softly as the back of his fingers brushed Falin’s face.

“Thank you, my dearest Falin. For a perfect evening.”

It really was a perfect evening, which eventually came to its end. When they parted ways however this time it was with the sure knowledge that they would see one another again soon. The match was only a short time away, and when that day came Falin found himself so excited to see Sterling again that he was almost worried that he would be unable to fight properly. He found his calm when he actually laid eyes on the other man though.

Dressed in his white fencing uniform, his helmet tucked under one arm and his weapon securely in hand he waved to Sterling with a smile before turning his attention on his opponent. He couldn’t help noticing as he did though, that he was not the only one who was paying attention to Sterling. There were several people in the stands that were openly staring at the pale man.

Falin had little time to focus on this fact however as he began his match. It was almost laughably easy for him, enough so that it was probably obvious even to Sterling that he had in this instance his opponent clearly outmatched. Thankfully this was an exhibition show which meant that in winning Falin was able to face another opponent a short time later. This match was more evenly met, but Falin won it handily just the same; without allowing his opponent to score a single point against him.

He had longer between himself and the third match, enough to notice that the attention that Sterling had gained for himself was not a passing thing. In fact, Falin noticed that one of the photographers for the event was avidly pointing at the man and talking to his companion. The sight made Falin frown, but before he could think to have anything done on the matter it was the third match and he was in for a fight.

The regional champion put up a much better fight than his predecessors had, and Falin nearly gave up a point to him in the first three seconds of the bout. As it was the other man narrowly missed thanks to his timely dodge. The two of them lept away from one another and began the game. It was very much a show, the two of them leaping forward, dodging; swords clanging in the block and riposte. In the end Falin gave up one point, but he won the match.

As the match was called Falin ripped his helmet off, sweating heavily and still breathing hard from having three fights so close in concert with one another. He waved his sword in a salute to his audience, and handed both helmet and weapon off to his manager. It felt immediately odd to not be holding his sword, and he watched the weapon leave his sight before turning his attention to Sterling.

This Sterling was not unlike the one who had met him that first time in London. Dressed to perfection in clothing that screamed wealth and that Falin had never seen the other man in before. His bone white hair loose but perfectly swept down his back, his make up softening the obvious signs of albinism that he had expressed his discomfort over once. He looked like he belonged there, sitting besides the rich. Only people with a certain amount of money would have seats like the kind Falin had given him, and many of them had their eyes not just on the fencers but also each other. And many of the people taking photographs were taking more of the people watching the spectacle than the people fighting in them.

As Falin met his gaze Sterling smiled, only for the flash of a camera going off to make him falter and turn his head away. The pensive look was brief, and when he turned towards Falin a second time it had melted back into something perfectly charming.

As the swordsman approached Sterling himself stood and made soft excuses to the people on either side of him before coming forwards to meet him half way. There were people holding cameras and talking to each other and as he passed them he heard names that made him wince. But he still drew ever on to Falin.

The number of eyes on them made Falin more tense than he might have been otherwise, but he was comfortable in the space around Sterling. “I apologize for the attention. They seem in a fine mood today. Would you care to join me in the locker room?” Dark blue eyes flickered toward a member of the press who was edging closer and closer for that one good shot and his warm smile slipped slightly.

“It might be for the best. Though truth be told…” Sterling plastered a friendly smile on his face even as he turned his head to miss the flash of the camera. It was clear the light hurt his eyes and when he sighed and looked at Falin again it was with a defeated droop to the corners of his eyes.

“I suspect there may be more scandal if we run then if we simply make our way like two people with nothing to hide.” Other than the camera’s flash he acted as if the people around them didn’t exist. For all they were beginning to circle the pair like hyenas at a kill.

Falin smiled, lifting a hand toward the cameras and they flashed again at his little wave. He made sure that the cameras went off while Sterling was still turned away so that the lights didn’t catch the other man. “I rarely stay out among the press for long, so it will not seem odd if we make a get-away soon.”

A bold man moved in closer, eyes on the pair and camera at the ready. “Mister Dinmorin, how do you know Sterling McGill? Are you friends with the McGill family?” He seemed to know enough about Falin to keep himself out of arms reach, to come across as less hostile to the fencer. Sterling swore so softly it was lost under the noise of the auditorium, managing to close his eyes to ruin another quick photo of him and Falin.

Suddenly Falin was uncertain what to say, ever since the press had hounded him over the death of his fiance, he’d had an uncertain relationship with them. They learned to keep their distance and their questions to his matches, and he learned to give them as little information as possible. He offered a smile to the man however, shaking his head. “The match went splendidly did it not? I think we will see France and America competing again for this years Olympic medals though.”

The speed with which the paparazzi backpedaled was impressive, and he smeared a smile on his lips and nodded his head. “Sounds like it then! Uh, and you… Sterling, right? Your sisters have all been vocal on their social media but you’ve been quiet as a mouse for years!” He drew as much charisma as he could to try and win something from Sterling since it was clear Falin was a dead end.

“How does it feel now that you’re back in the limelight?” He angled his camera up, obviously taking video of the other man’s reaction. Sterling stared at him, then down at the camera that was going to cement whatever he had to say into truth for as long as the footage existed.

And smiled, patting Falin’s shoulder lightly. “I’m not back in anything, just visiting with the winner here. I think you had best look to my sister’s if you want ‘hot takes’, as it were.”

There was a brief flash of light that made Falin blink as Sterling patted his shoulder and he kept his smile firmly in place. “If you like to speak to him, Monsieur Kruse just came out of his locker room.” Falin motioned toward the man that he had beaten just a moment ago. He had been chosen during the last Olympics to represent Britain, so his defeat on his home turf was sensational enough for the crowd of reporters to turn their attention toward the other man.

This gave Falin a chance to step back, his eyes on any lingering on the reporters that had been a little slow on the uptake, the one that had been talking to them specifically. Moving slowly but determinedly away from the man now that the crowd was moving away from them. Sterling was more than glad to join him, the pair of them moving as if neither one was feeling a hundred eyes peering down their backs.

“Thank you,” Sterling managed, pushing some of his hair back behind his ear as they walked. “I haven’t been trapped like that in a very long time.”

Falin nodded, flashing Sterling a slightly tense smile. “Usually they are not so insistent, but part of that was my fault for beating their Olympic representative.” The swordsman didn’t relax until there was a door between them and the press. One that had a guard on the other side to make sure that the press didn’t bother those trying to change their clothing. “I did not know that they would know who you are though.”

“I should have worn a wig, I would have been less noticeable that way.” Sterling sighed and sat down on a bench. He was frowning now, eyes trailing towards the doors when they should have been looking towards Falin. He seemed worried, only breaking himself out of his fugue when he really heard what Falin said.

“You should be celebrating, Falin.” He smiled wanly and met his eyes. “Congratulations on a marvelous match.”

While Sterling watched the doors Falin made his way to his locker and pulled off his fencing jacket. Underneath was a shirt which he also pulled off, revealing layers of wrappings around his torso which he began to also undo. Beneath his clothes he was toned from head to toe; he had a warrior’s body. Not overly muscular but every part of him was ready for the next fight to come. “It could have gone better, but thank you.”

He was distracted by Sterling being so clearly upset by the paparazzi, not really thinking as he finished unwrapping his chest and turned to pull his clothes out of the locker. The motion revealed the injuries that the wrappings had been hiding. Layers of scars on his back, and fresher wounds, some that looked barely weeks old. As if he had gotten them just before his date with Sterling. They were very clearly made by a whip of some kind, and the depth of them was proof of years of injury.

“Falin! My god, your back.” Sterling was on his feet and moving towards Falin in a breath, a deep gut clenching horror gripping him at the sight of the mess of his back. His eyes were wide now, and he made to close the gap between them as if his presence and touch could somehow make a difference.

The swordsman startled at the sound of Sterling’s voice so surprised and half-turned, the words only now reaching his understanding and his blue eyes darkened subtly. His shoulders lowered and he balled the shirt in his hands up somewhat. “Oh…” The utterance held a world of sadness and regret. “I… I did not mean for you to learn this way.”

“Falin, my love what happened to you?” Sterling didn’t even pause to think as he spoke, reaching out to put his hands over Falin’s where he gripped his shirt. Concern was warring with anger in his face, and his fingers tightened as his mind filled in blanks that Falin’s body language provided the clues to.

My love. Falin’s heart beat hard at those words even as the rest of him tried to draw away. To be calm when part of him wanted to rush his explanation. “This is how she punishes me. For what I have done. How I pay for what I want but should not have.” They were words of rote, words that echoed in his mind a thousand times but never spoke to anyone but her.

“She hurts you.” Sterling’s voice grew cold and he frowned now, deeply. “She bloody cuts you to ribbons and then tells you you can’t take care of yourself?” He swore, his grip on Falin remaining tight before he let go to grasp the sides of Falin’s face. Firmly, but without harming him.

“For fucks sake, that’s…” He fumed and wheeled, stalking around the locker room like a pale caged cat.

“It is what I deserve Sterling.” His voice was so calm beside Sterlings. He’d accepted his punishment long ago, and what hurt him now was seeing how it made Sterling feel to see it. He didn’t know how to explain. “What I…”

He clutched his shirt and looked away, held his words tightly to his chest. “I needed a great amount of discipline as a child, and I continue to need someone to rein me in. Someone to balance the scales. She does this for me.”

“She abuses you. For you.” Sterling crossed his arms and stood, glaring at everywhere but Falin. So much anger that he had never expressed in the time they had known each other. Frustration, yes. But a rage like this where he was so very upset? No, this wasn’t normal for Sterling at all.

“And if you had a child that needed discipline you’d do the same?” He pinned Falin with his gaze now, jaw set in a mulish way that mirrored how Laven’s had been on their cafe date.

It was… a cruel reminder. A harsh slap to Falin who could not stop the pain that it caused him to hear those words from writing itself out on his face. “Sterling…” He looked helplessly at the other man but he shook his head. “I could not. I could not.”

His eyes were lit with tears and he knotted the cloth up in his fists, jaw tight with hurt. “What does that make of me?”

“A better man.” Sterling relented and crossed the small space between them to touch Falin’s face, to rest his fingers on the tense jaw and smooth them along the muscle there. “My god, Falin.” He shook his head, at a loss for words.

“My poor dear. You don’t deserve this.”

“I am everything that I was warned I might become. I thought that made my punishment righteous. I never once thought what it might mean to offer my fate to someone else.” He closed his eyes briefly and tilted his face toward Sterling. “I have begged for the sanctuary of a thousand pains in the hopes of redemption. I thought it would make me whole and I reveled in it.”

His words grew quieter and quieter, but never quite low enough to go unheard. “This is my doing as well Sterling. I have wrought half these scars.”

“If you have been told throughout your life that you deserve the suffering you receive then would you not ask for the pain thinking it was the correct action?” Sterling filled Falin’s space carefully, the hand on his jaw holding the back of his head without regard to the cold and drying sweat. Instead he brought the weary head down and to his shoulder so that they were cheek to cheek. So that he could gently place an arm over Falin’s bowed shoulders.

“If it was right it wouldn’t make you hide it away from people like this. If she was right wouldn’t others have the same situation? You are unique but not the only child that ‘needed’ a special hand.” He snorted, bitter on the back of his tongue.

“No, I think you’re wiser than that, for all you are trapped in a cycle of violence.”

Falin released his shirt so that he could touch Sterling’s side very gently, finding comfort in the other man’s easy nearness. “I thought I hid a monster behind the thin veil of a man. But you have seen me and you draw me to think that the veil is truth and the monster a lie. I want to believe you.”

Sterling pressed a kiss to Falin’s head fiercely, eyes tightly shut before admitting the truth. “Only one of us is a monster here, and I know it isn’t you.” He felt that pain in his chest, in his heart like the nails of the past.

The swordsman shook his head. “You a monster? I who have killed a man in hot-blooded passion you would think of as a man but my gentle love you would brand something other?” Falin lifted his own hand, tracing a gentle line up Sterling’s side. Pulled back enough to show that he had not cried, but that his eyes were red from the need. “You who see the light in darkness? My talented, and wise; beloved man? I can not imagine someone further from monstrosity.”

Sterling smiled through Falin’s praise, allowing the words of love and adoration and touching Falin’s cheek as he spoke them. But when he had finished with his praise it was clear that Sterling himself still believed what he had said. His response only solidifying that.

“Some of us are born of monstrous situations, and that monster’s nature will always follow me. I am simply…” He sighed. “I was always a good child, because anything less would be a pain I could not stand. So I have hidden my sins as best I can.” To be good.

“What sin could you possibly hold that would make you worse than I?” Falin was truly at a loss, his palm pressed against Sterling’s body. It was there again, the pain that Sterling hid as deftly as Falin hid his own, but this time Falin could not let it pass so easily.

"I exist, when I should not." Sterling kept on smiling, eyes tight and mascara smudging slightly from being touched, and any hidden tears he kept away.

"I was born of sin. When my mother was raped by her brother."

Falin blinked, confusion touching his brow more than what might have been expected. “The circumstances of your birth are not your burden Sterling. What the man who sired you did - to force himself is a terrible thing, but you are not responsible for it.”

"And I know that now. But as a child?" Sterling stroked Falin's cheek. "When my existence drove my mother to experience her trauma again and again, and she made sure any pain I received was earned? It's simpler to accept it's what you're owed. What you deserve." Just like that he twisted what Falin had said about deserving his punishment into showing how easily an abuser tricked the abused.

The words made Falin’s lips twisted. “You are not a monster.” It was said firmly and he took a moment then to clear his thoughts. “Perhaps neither of us are.” There was something in his eyes still, some dark thought that he could not escape, a truth that lingered in the back of his mind. He met Sterling’s eyes.

“I am so sorry that you learned this way. I did not mean for so much of today to happen and yet…” He lifted his hand, freed of his shirt with a flick of movement so that he could touch Sterling’s face. “You have given me hope.”

"If I can give you that it was worth it." Sterling leaned into the touch, though his brow was still tight from exposing a secret that was rooted deeply in his personal pain.

"I feel like I should warn you…" he looked into Falin's eyes. "Now that they've gotten a whiff of me public dates are going to be more… public. Unfortunately." His eyes still hurt from the dazzle of flashes.

Gently stroking the other man’s face Falin smiled a little. “I do not fear the press. Though, I have been chosen to go to the Olympics this year and news of a gay fencer will be… newsworthy as well.” He sighed at the thought of placing Sterling so neatly in the eye of the public. “Would you rather… not be seen with me?”

"No." Sterling frowned. "I simply… no. I may hate the paparazzi but they aren't going to stop existing and I'm not going to let them stop me from being happy."

He pressed a kiss to Falin's brow, resting his face against the space there. "I love you."

“I love you too. With all my heart.” Falin wished then that this safe space they existed in, in this moment could continue on forever. That he could hold Sterling against whatever storm existed in the future. “Come what may, we have one another, and that is more than I ever dreamed to hold.”