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Heels tapped against marble, reverberating off of pristine walls. Cioccolata was wealthy, the kind of wealth where every chandelier was made of real diamond, and six bathrooms were a necessity. Of course, all of the extra space meant ample room for all of his more… unethical needs. However, it was in times like these that the enormity of the mansion proved trouble for Cioccolata. When you had a labyrinth of rooms and a partner who could burrow underground, things could get frustrating (to say the least).
‘’Secco, my dear boy!’’
…
‘’Secco, my darling!’’ Cioccolata worried his lip between his teeth.
It was not completely unusual for Secco to mishear Cioccolata, because of Oasis, but it was rare that Secco would spend prolonged time underground – usually he was exploring the house, or playing with bugs in the garden, or his favourite pastime: sticking to Cioccolata’s side.
Perhaps… Secco had been having a bad day? Was Cioccolata too foolish to notice? Or… or maybe it was his own fault? Had he been too selfish, engrossed in his work and not playing enough with Secco? But Cioccolata was always playing with Secco, only putting an hour of each day aside if he had important work to do (if the two weren’t on a mission, or experimenting in the lower floors of the house.)
Cioccolata stopped abruptly. Someone had taken his books.
In his anxious pacing, Cioccolata had reached their colossal library. Much like the rest of the house (well, the parts that guests were allowed to see- not that him and Secco received many) the space was immaculate, impressively so. Despite receiving so few visits, Cioccolata would argue he kept the place clean because there was no point in worsening his reputation, and although he wielded a pretty gruesome stand, it didn’t hurt to keep some personal hygiene. (The real reason was that he wanted only the best for Secco.)
Even so, the room was not clinically white and marble like everything else: rather, it was filled with mahoganies and oaks. A normal person might’ve said it was cozy: Cioccolata was not a normal person. (But maybe… if Secco wanted to relax in it…)
Ahem. The point was, Cioccolata knew his library like he knew human anatomy. It was well-stocked, featuring books on every subject imaginable. There were three shelves dedicated to biology and medicine, and the newest computer model sat proudly atop a cherry-wood desk. Cioccolata found it very taxing to work with, however; it was not that he had a bad grasp on technology – rather, he was constantly shooing Secco away from the keyboard. Secco constantly whined about ‘’playing games online,’’ which was ridiculous: Cioccolata was filthy rich. He could easily buy Secco any video game console he wanted, hell, he could probably buy the company.
Last but not least, (in fact, quite the opposite) were the doctor’s personal tapes, all arranged by date, and separated into two cryptic labels: ‘’Elderly,’’ and ‘’Hospital,’’. Cioccolata knew where everything fit, every nook and cranny. Which it was easy for him to tell some of his classics had disappeared, along with… something from his biology section - there was simply too much to remember.
Secco?
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Cioccolata shook his head. Secco despised reading! Well, Secco liked picture books enough, and he liked being read to… Secco! What was he doing, wasting time in the library when his beloved was missing?
He decided his best chance was looking upstairs; he had only checked their bedroom, and he would’ve figured out if Secco had crept into the study with him.
Once upstairs, Cioccolata paced the hallway rapidly, diligently checking every door. When he reached their fifth bathroom, he paused, hand at the knob. If Secco was in the middle of something, it wasn’t like he could just-
Softly, Cioccolata knocked. ‘’Secco?’’
‘’Sec-‘’
A sound. The sound of movement like—like someone shifting their body weight. Secco! It was coming from - Cioccolata strained to hear - one of their lounge rooms?
Merda, he should’ve known. It was the one with the big window! Secco liked to watch birds for hours, and when it was sunny he loved lounging there like a sweet little gatto-
Cioccolata hurried to the room, feet nearly snagging on his jacket in his haste.
Turning the doorknob gently, he softened his tone. ‘’Secco?’’
Secco was right there, stretched out underneath the big window because of course he was, and it was going to be okay, and Secco was here, in one piece.
Cioccolata breathed a heavy sigh at the same time his beloved let slip a little squeak. Okay, that was suspicious. Nonetheless, Cioccolata persevered, stepping into the room and shutting the door with a soft ‘click.’
‘’I’ve been so worried as to your whereabouts… surely you heard me calling?’’
Finally, Secco began to respond, sprawling limbs contorting freakishly so he could face the madman. ‘’Uah! H-hello, Cioccolata!’’
Though Cioccolata felt a sense of comfort upon hearing Secco’s familiar drawl, he could not allow himself to feel fully at ease. Cioccolata could carve someone up and put them back together like nothing had ever happened: he was no chump.
Weary, he opted to cut to the point, hand on hip. ‘’Secco. you wouldn’t happen to be doing anything naughty now, would you? Especially anything to do with… sugar cubes?’’
Although Secco whimpered, and there was a tinge of guilt on his face, Cioccolata could tell his rapid headshaking was genuine. They’d lived together for a long time, after all.
‘’N-no Cioccolataa… I wasn’t, I promise you!’’
‘’Hmph.’’ Unsatisfied, Cioccolata kneeled to the man’s height, resting his hands on either side of Secco’s cheeks. ‘’My dear, sweet boy… you’re positive?’’ Secco began to thrash his head wildly, though his eyes still conveyed guilt. Cioccolata smiled fondly, rubbing at his head through Oasis.
A sharp ray of sunlight beamed through the glass, falling on something behind Secco. Something leather-bound, and distinctly book shaped.
Cioccolata gasped, his grasp on Secco all but left behind as he reached for the prizes. Secco whined and wriggled uncomfortably, pawing at his leg.
Cioccolata cradled the books carefully before flipping them to examine their spines. He chuckled good-naturedly at what he discovered. ‘’Wuthering Heights? You never told me you had a penchant for classic literature. And Gray’s Anatomy? My, Secco, look at you go!’’ His teasing, however, was not appreciated by his counterpart, who’s stubborn pout had turned to downright misery, bottom lip wobbling dangerously. Cioccolata placed aside the books to embrace Secco’s cheeks again, deliciously soft beneath his palms.
‘’Oh, my boy, don’t look so down! It’ll ruin your gorgeous face.’’ Secco stilled, seemingly not in the mood for Cioccolata’s habitual jests, causing him to sigh and press his forehead to Secco’s. ‘’Tell me what’s wrong, my sweet. I promise you; I will forgive you. I’d forgive you even if you went on a rampage and plunged the world into chaos. No - I’d be right there with you.’’
His words soothed Secco, who opened his mouth to speak. ‘’Cioc-‘’ ‘’Ciocc- I-‘’ He struggled to push his words out without choking up. Cioccolata squeezed his hand as he sniffled miserably. ‘’It’s okay, Secco. Take your time.’’
‘’Y-you’re always reading…’’ Secco began, eyes shifting to the plush carpet. ‘’Mmh,’’ Cioccolata was quick to respond. ‘’Indeed I am?’’
‘’Well... I thought… you might like me more. If I… if I was as smart as s-someone like you. S-so I went to the library and… well, anyway, the words were all so big and I’m just so stupid and, well, I r-really think you ought to pick someone else for this job.’’ Secco’s speech has grown frantic and slurred, and he’d become increasingly interested at picking some lint on the ground.
Cioccolata gasped, horrified. He moved back from Secco, only to grab him and pull him to his chest tightly. Secco was glassy-eyed and still sniffling. ‘’Shh, hush now, cucciolo mio. I know it’s hard, but I need you to listen, alright? And I promise it’s not a dull, grating monologue -- I know you hate it so when I monologue.’’
‘’Secco… how does one even put into words how much you mean to them? To me, you encompass a human body, pure and whole. You are the blood: hot, pulsing, alive, shooting through the veins with intent - and I am but a bloodlust-addled sawbones. You are the heart, the gorgeous pinks and reds of the arteries, the constant that keeps me alive. The rest of the world might gaze upon us and view us as crazy, psychotic, insane. But I don’t care not one bit Secco; not for a second. I do not need the rest of the world because you… you’re my world,’’ He paused for a breath, smile shaky with emotion.
‘’Nobody could ever replace you as my beloved assistant, because I need you. And I need you because you are blunt, you are stubborn, you are unafraid. But you are also kind, emotional, vulnerable. You are strong, and fast, and the very best at what you do. I need you because you have a talent that goes beyond the need for book smarts. You are smarter than me in ways I could only dream of being. Never doubt yourself, Secco. Never. And if you find yourself entangled in these cumbersome thoughts, just think to yourself ‘’Cioccolata loves me.’’ And I hope that should be enough.’’
Cioccolata’s own heart was pounding in his ears in that dumb cliché way that dumb cliché romance novels would not shut up about—and yet, why did it feel so addicting?
Secco nuzzled contentedly into his lover’s shoulder, voice muffled by the cloth. ‘’Love you, Cioccolata.’’
Ah. Well, Secco never was a man of many words, but what he said, he meant.
Electing to ignore the butterflies dangerously stirring in his gut, Cioccolata clapped joyously. ‘’Now then. How about I make us some hot drinks and I can read to you? And you just tell me if there’s a word you don’t know, okay? I’ll explain it a thousand times over if you want.’’
Secco chirped happily. Cioccolata pressed his lips to Secco’s forehead.
Though freakish, crude, and obscene to the outside world, Secco and Cioccolata were not always playing circus for the outside world to see. Today was most definitely not one of those days. Instead, it became a fond memory, frozen in time: as dusk fell, the Big room with the Big window is where they remained, snug against one another. They slept. The moon rose behind them. And the world kept on turning.