Requested by AG-writer234

Trigger warning: alcohol abuse; domestic violence; mentions of abuse

Pairing: Romantic Demile/Deceit X Emile

Category: Semi-angst/fluff

*****

There was something that's bothering his mind. As a therapist, Emile knew he should always be neutral and remain unbiased from other people's opinions and comments, though he couldn't help but think about something that people have told him a whole lot. Some of his friends from college had told him many times about this interesting fellow.

Baylen was his name.

He'd heard from many people about this Baylen guy. He knew, for a fact, that Baylen had a burn scar on the left side of his face. No one ever told him why Baylen had the scar, so he knew nothing about it. And really, if he was going to be honest, although he was intrigued by him, Emile never met him in person. The only times he ever heard of Baylen was through his friends. They did go to college in the same university and in the same year, so Emile had heard a few things about Baylen.

Baylen was known to be a troublemaker, spreading lies to the people who trusted him. He tend to isolate himself from the rest of the community, making him an outcast even among outcasts. After second year of college, Emile never heard of him anymore. Perhaps he moved away or maybe—although unlikely—he could have stopped his lying and became a better person.

The other day, Emile asked about Baylen to his brother, Logan.

"Lo, you remember Baylen from college?" Emile asked one afternoon. "What happened to him?"

"I'm not sure," Logan answered, his eyes were fixed to the trees outside, holding a hint of uncertainty. "I do not care, to be quite honest. He's always telling falsehoods and he is very untrustworthy. He used to shoplift a lot during college."

Emile only nodded, but he wasn't too sure about the answer that Logan had given him.

The second time, he asked his friends, Virgil and Roman.

"I don't really like Baylen," Virgil had said that day. "I could even say I hate him. He lies all the time and you'll never know what comes out of his trash can of a mouth."

"Yes! That snake-face needs to get a life!"

Then, he asked Patton. Patton is usually very considerate and he always sees people's positive side. However, when he asked Patton...

"Oh, I don't know what to say about him," Patton answered, his tone a little frantic. "He's scary—not because of the scar—because he always looks at people like they're his prey. I think he's just lost?"

Perhaps, it was time for him to see for himself. He gathered as much information he could about Baylen and set out to find the guy. After a week of digging, he found that Baylen was the owner of the famous circus a town over and that he was one of the master magicians in the circus shows. That was a quite unexpected find, but interesting nonetheless. That weekend, Emile went to visit.

----------

"Mister! Mister!" Baylen looked over behind him to find a little girl running up to him with a beaming smile.

"Hey there, kid," He greeted warmly. "Are you lost?"

"Nope! My mommy is over there," She said, pointing at a woman sitting at a bench, observing them with a smile. "Aren't you Master Deceit? From the show just now!"

"Yes! It is, I, Deceit," Baylen said dramatically, his hands making gestures in the air. "I will amaze you with a deceiving trick of the eye—" he took a card from the pocket of his coat, flipping it back and forth with the tips of his gloved fingers— "and present to you... a never-ending magic!" He finally covered the card with one hand, shielding it from view and removing his hand a second later to reveal a dove where the card should have been.

The little girl squealed in amazement and felicity. She gaped in awe for a second before clapping her hands in excitement. "Another one!" she shouted in delight.

And for the next ten minutes, Baylen did a series of simple tricks for his single audience. He was more than happy to entertain the little girl who always gasp in astonishment every time he did a trick. He was amazed—and a little touched—that someone, no matter who they were, cared enough about what he does to remember him at all from his show—especially a child. Usually, children would always be horrified by the burn mark running down one side of his face, but this girl didn't even comment on it. He was glad she didn't say anything about it, because he didn't want to think about the night he earned the scar.

After that, with a merry laugh, the little girl ran back to her mother. Baylen could hear her told her mother about what happened with enthusiasm, waving at him. Baylen found himself waving back with a side smile.

"That was a nice thing that you did." He heard a voice behind him. "Also, children are just so precious, aren't they?"

Baylen whipped his head to the side, to find a man leaning against one of the pole of a tent. He was tall and had a gentle face. The man wore a nice fitting black slacks, paired with a pink button down and a brown heavy jacket. The dark red glasses and dark brown boots complimented his pale complexion. His hair was styled in a sleek-back fashion, though it still held some volume instead of laying flat on his head. Who is this?

"Umm... did anyone ever tell you that stalking someone is, firstly, illegal—cus' it's an invasion of privacy—and secondly, it's creepy." Baylen said with raised brows and folding his arms in front of him. "Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm Emile Picani. Nice to meet you!" The man—Emile—said with a gentle smile. Ugh... he's not used to people smiling at him like this.

"The name sounds... familiar."

"Yeah, we went to college at the same university and at the same year, but we never met at all. I think you knew my brother, though. He's older than me."

"And your brother is..." Baylen paused, remembering if he had any acquaintances who shared the same surname as the handsome stranger standing in front of him. "...Logan? Logan's your brother? Wow, should've known."

"Nice place you got here. Mind showing me around?"

Baylen was a little hesitant at first, but he thought it wouldn't hurt to oblige. Besides, it wasn't everyday that people take interest in him, however small it might, much less a good looking man. At least Emile wasn't too annoying.

----------

Emile was awestruck by the circus. His favorite must be the animal pens where the animals were kept away from visitors' view. Unlike most circuses where they treated animals cruely, Baylen's circus didn't keep the animals in tight cages or too strict of a diet. Baylen also showed him the places around the circus where performances would be held. By the end of the afternoon, they sat under the shade of a tree at a secluded part of the circus where they rest after a long walk around.

"By the way, why are you here?" Baylen asked Emile, taking off his bowler hat to place it lower on his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. "You don't seem to be interested in seeing any of the shows we have, so..."

"I was actually looking for you."

"Why is that? You don't know me. Also, how did you find me? How did you even know what I looked like?"

"I did some research."

"Geez, I might need to call a cop. You are a stalker."

"Relax!" Emile smiled brightly. "I'm not gonna do anything dangerous or something like that. I'm a therapist, which means my goal is to help people and not hurt them."

"I don't need help," Baylen said with a defensive tone. "Also, if I was your patient, shouldn't you be taking a bunch of notes and keep a professional distance?"

"You're not my patient, though." Emile stuck a finger in the air, as if making a point. "I'm here as a friend, not as a doctor."

"Okay, it's nice to meet ya and I would so love another chat with you, but I gotta go." Baylen got up from his seat, stretching his stiff back and replacing his bowler hat to its proper place. "Show's in twenty minutes."

"Can I get your number?"

Baylen stiffened at the question, but he thought he could trust Emile. And he knew this not because of his cute dimples when he smile and definitely not because he acts like a child when he's excited. Definitely not any of those.

"Aight, doc."

----------

It's been almost two months since Emile first met Baylen. From the moment he saw Baylen's interaction with the little girl in the circus, he had guessed that Baylen couldn't have been as bad as people say. Now, he can see that Baylen was just misunderstood. Knowing and understanding his past made Emile understand Baylen to a deeper extent.

"You know how I got my scar?" Baylen had asked him one night when they were sitting on a bench in the harbor, watching the night sky blink with twinkling stars, away from the city. There weren't many times when Baylen was willing to say anything about his scar, so Emile didn't say anything in return, silently urging his friend to talk. "It's messed up..."

"It was... I was eleven. The house was always so messy and chaotic. Mom was too lazy to do anything, so she'll just tell me to do everything. Dad would come home late—usually drunk—and mom would scream at him until morning. If he drinks at home, it would be worse cus' he'll use me as a punching bag. When that happens, mom would disappear for a night and come back the next morning. One time, I heard banging when they were fighting, so I went out of my room to see what happened..."

Baylen paused, slipping into the memory of that night again. It had been so long, yet the pain never truly fade. "Dad was—he was holding a bottle, swinging it like a maniac at my mom. I didn't know why, but I felt like I needed to protect her. Sure, she wasn't a great mother, but she never did anything bad to me either. I jumped in front of her right before he bashed the bottle over her head. He hit me instead." There was another pause. Baylen avoided Emile's intense gaze from his side. "He got angrier and dragged me to the kitchen. He was shouting things—I can't really remember, but I think it was about me being useless and ungrateful and stuff—and he pushed me onto the kitchen counter. I thought he was gonna kill me.

"I thought he was going to take out a knife and cut me up. But then, he said to me "let's give you a fitting punishment," before he turned on the stove. So, at this point, I was covered in alcohol and my head and face was bleeding, but I didn't really notice that since my asshole of a father was staring at me like I'm some sort of—some sort of toy. He shoved my shirt to the fire, burning it, and eventually the fire climbed up to my face. Thankfully he left pretty quickly after that and I—fortunately—could think clear enough to drench myself with water.

"I had to call nine-one-one. My mom was passed out in the living room with sick bruises all over her body. Broken bones, too, I think. My dad got arrested that night for attempted murder."

Emile listened intently to Baylen's story. He couldn't imagine how it would've been like to be in Baylen's position. If it were him, he didn't think he would have been able to handle it. He felt a twinge of sympathy in his chest and he wished he could give his friend a hug. Instead, he placed a hand on Baylen's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Emile said melancholically.

"It's fine. I've accepted it since a long time ago."

After he told his story, Baylen excused himself to go home. Emile waved him goodbye with a sad smile, wishing that he could have done more. As he took silent steps home, he felt something stir in his stomach.

----------

"Hey doc." Baylen said, dropping his bag on the foot of the sofa and flopping himself on Emile's sofa. It had become a routine for Baylen to come over to Emile's when he has a spare time and Emile will happily accept his guest if he wasn't at his office. "I'm bored."

"You're always bored, Bay."

Emile sat himself down on the sofa by Baylen's chest. Baylen looked up at his friend, feeling a certain joy pop in him as he gaze into those chocolate brown eyes. Baylen had never known anyone that ever treated him like a decent human being like Emile did. He felt as though Emile cared enough about him that he'd want to know more about Emile himself. He liked hearing Emile's childish laugh and see how his eyes would light up if anyone asked him about his interests. He liked the stories they shared with each other, no matter how insignificant it may be. And if anyone asked him, he would always deny how he loved seeing Emile so excited whenever the doctor watched him perform in his circus.

Baylen wasn't sure what he was feeling. He had a guess, but he wasn't really certain. His face buzzed with warmth at the thought. It wasn't a rare occasion when he would imagine feeling Emile's skin under his touch or how it would be like to have those fingers run through his hair. People would never expect these thoughts from him, but he'd imagined himself pressing his lips to Emile's countless times.

"You okay there, doc? You're getting quite red." Baylen reached up, feeling a subtle, almost unnoticeable heat on Emile's forehead. "You should eat or you'll get sick."

Of course, he was flushed, because that's what people do when someone stare at them; they blush. Emile huffed with a smile and got up from the sofa, disappearing into the kitchen. He didn't come back to the living room for a few minutes, so Baylen decided to follow his friend to into the kitchen.

"Hey, I know this might be weird, and it may not be possible," Baylen said, gaining Emile's attention, "but I might need your help with—with like... mental health and emotions and stuff..."

"What are your issues?" Emile leaned on the kitchen counter, stirring the cup of tea in his hand.

"I'm feeling... messy..."

"Well, if you weren't my friend, then I could do it. And since you're my friend, the result might be biased. So, you might have to find another psychologist," Emile said with a professional air that Baylen had never noticed before. Emile softened a little. "Or, you could just talk to me as a friend."

Baylen nodded and walked back to the living room, choosing to sit on the floor instead of the couch. He looked up at Emile who was now sitting, cup of tea still cradled in his hands. After he took a sip, he set the cup on the table.

"So, what's wrong?"

Baylen sighed. How was he ever going to tell Emile that his problem was the doctor himself. That his problem was a confusing mess of emotions that he could never seem to sort out all by himself. "It's a person... And I might—I don't know what I feel for this person."

Emile appeared thoughtful for a second and, "Well, what exactly do you feel?"

Baylen knew the answer to that question, he just didn't know if he would have the courage to say it to Emile's face. 'Ah, fuck it,' He got up from the floor, sitting himself down next to Emile, not leaving the slightest gap between them. 'Let me tell you, Em.'

"Well, when I'm with this person I feel really calm and... safe, almost. I don't like being away from him, because it feels empty. And when he laughs or happy, I feel happy, too..." He trailed off, looking up at Emile who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. Not taking off his eyes off of the doctor, he continued. "I really like this person. He's the first person to ever treat me like a real person and not some kind of monster. He understands me more than anyone ever try to. I think—I think he's really cute, too. He has these dimples that when he laughs the dimples would come alive with him."

He took Emile's hand in his, still maintaining eye-contact, smiling at the flash of pink that painted Emile's face. He leaned a fraction closer, but did nothing else. "And, whenever I'm with him, I always feel all sorts of things. I want to hold him and I want to make him smile because of me. I want to make him happy and keep him safe..."

Emile didn't know how to react to all this. He didn't know Baylen to be a sentimental person. He almost wished that he could be the person that Baylen have so obviously fallen for, but he had to be happy for his friend. We can't always get what we want. Emile looked down at their linked fingers, intertwining with each other in a collaborative warmth. He wished he could keep this forever, yet he knew that at some point he would have to let go.

"If I may ask, who is this this person?" Emile asked, masking his disappointment with a curious smile. He wasn't really lying either when he acted curious.

"How 'bout I show you?" Baylen said, leaning in yet again.

Hearing no response, he took it as a yes. He shifted his position on the couch to face Emile, still not breaking their intense eye-contact. He slipped his arms around Emile's waist, pulling him closer as he pressed their foreheads together. He smirked when he saw Emile's face turn a lovely shade of red. When he felt no resistance, he leaned closer and closed the gap between them.

Emile froze in shock before he closed his eyes and relaxed, letting the kiss drown him. They moved their lips slowly and gently, not rushing. Baylen pulled Emile closer and in return, Emile brought his arms up to circle Baylens shoulder. Baylen quickly pulled away, taking off Emile's glasses before pressing their lips together once more. Emile could only smile into the kiss as he played with the hair at the nape of Baylen's neck.

After a long while, they pulled apart, still keeping their foreheads pressed together. Their breathing were a little heavy from the lack of air, but it was all worth it. They shared a shy, gentle smile that finally broke into a fit of giggles.

"What do you think?" Baylen asked softly after the giggles subsided.

"Hmmm..." Emile pretended to ponder, "I think this person might like you just as much as you do."

And, they shared another smile, feeling warm from their new love. Their journey will not be easy. There will be disapproval and there will be rejection, but they'll fight through it together. No matter what, they'll stay strong.