For as long as Hunter could remember, his existence has been defined by his sleep-wake cycle. Wake up, hunt the Sun, kill the Sun, sleep; wake up, hunt the Sun, kill the Sun, sleep; wake up, hunt the Sun… Everything else he ended up doing happened in the gaps of time left between the hunt and the killing—not that there ever was much else to be done.
Hunter knew who and what he was.
It was very simple.
Until it wasn’t.
Until Sunny.
The Little Sun was supposed to be just as easy to dispose of as Solaris has ever been—emotionally, that was; she’s always been more than a worthy opponent—but Sunny’s fire was different from hers, his Light stranger, beckoning, alluring. It drew Hunter in from the moment he first saw Sunny at the farmer’s market, young and fresh and terrifying all at once. He should’ve left it at that, should’ve waited until the Little Sun grew into his powers but he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
In hindsight, it was ridiculously obvious. The Little Sun had bewitched him; this…this child now had his whole being wired to always be aware of where he was, always attuned to his Light. Hunter should’ve left, he should’ve stayed away, he should’ve—
(He should’ve done something, anything else than stalk into Sunny’s backyard to stare at the silent house and draw in his scent and the residual Light that hung in the air like mist.)
It was infuriating and it shattered his carefully structured life where he waited for the Sun to wake up again. Because the Sun was awake and she was a he and Hunter loathed this, loathed this feeling of uncertainty and the need that itched under his skin.
The parking lot incident was a disaster, plain and simple. He should’ve kept his distance because he knew Sunny wasn’t in any real danger but his Light drew him in and before Hunter even realized, he had Sunny in his arms and then on the back seat of his car and there was blood, bright red and warm, pooling on the hollow of the Little Sun’s stomach. It made something dark and possessive surge up in him and without a conscious thought, he bent down to lap it up and sealed his doom.
(He wanted to do so much more than just lick. He wanted to bite into the flesh and tear into the skin and devour the Little Sun whole, to make space for his Light inside his own darkness and cradle it for all eternity. He wanted to—)
…and then there was the kiss at Hemlock’s party.
…and the dreams.
…and he knew he would never be able to leave.
Hunter had been both waiting and dreading the upcoming Eclipse and the more tightly the Little Sun drew him into his orbit, the more his feelings leaned on the dread.
And yet, he had no idea what to be afraid of.
None at all.
The Eclipse has always rendered the Sun, if not powerless, at least mortal. It has always diminished her powers, made her more sluggish, slower to respond. In return, Hunter gained the speed and ferocity he needed to put her down.
But not this time.
When he’d found Sunny in the woods yesterday (…or today? was it still today?) brimming with Light, it didn’t take him long to lose himself, forget the unfortunate Brother he was supposed to be hunting. He cockily offered himself as the dummy for Sunny to beat out his frustration on and almost instantly, the exhilaration of the fight sucked him in, made him grin until his mouth widened into a maw, until he felt himself shift and he bent down with a snarl—
It was supposed to be easy.
He was supposed to be the stronger one.
Sunny was supposed to—
Not—
Mine mine mine mine mine mine mine, sang through his mind as Sunny gripped his Crown and pulled him into a forceful kiss that seared through him, a continuous loop of kiss kill mine fuck keep mine kiss kill mine kiss mine kiss fuck kiss fuck kiss mine mine mine keep mine keep keep keep— that drowned out the small whimper Sunny let out.
And then Hunter wrenched himself back, more terrified than he’d ever felt before.
What was this? How— this— Sunny wasn’t supposed to—
”Why does this keep happening?” he roared, panting with the effort to keep his distance from…from the…
And Sunny—
Sunny crawled to him, into his lap, treated him like he was some skittish animal and not someone who could rip him into pieces—
(No, no, not rip; hold and fuck and keep and devour and—)
—and he was so gentle and soft and small and fuck it messed with Hunter’s head because this wasn’t how things were supposed to go! Sunny wasn’t supposed to watch him with too-knowing eyes or hold him so gently as Hunter flipped them and pushed Sunny on his back. Sunny was supposed to fight him and hit him and struggle instead of whispering words of encouragement as Hunter fucked into the tight ring of his—his—
He couldn’t even keep his eyes open when he came all over Sunny’s face and chest with a low groan, couldn’t meet Sunny’s eyes because he was afraid of what he’d see in them. Solaris’s Light? Sunny’s Light? Pity? So he kept his head bowed and nuzzled down, nudged at the bulge in Sunny’s jeans with his chin, drew in the intoxicating scent of Sunny’s arousal.
There was something incredibly rewarding in ripping the jeans open and swallowing him down, spanning his claws around slim hips, swallowing around the hot, hot weight in his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hunter was distantly aware of the familiar feeling of power washing over him but it was drowned under everything Sunny; the grip on his Crown, the twitching in his hold, the breathy moans. A short moment later, his whole world exploded with Light as Sunny came down his throat, burning, burning, burning through him as he swallowed.
Hunter opened his eyes to a dimmer world and realized that the Eclipse had begun.
And he didn’t give a fuck.
And now, he’s here. In Sunny’s tent, holding the incarnation of his sworn enemy in his arms.
Sunny is small and delicate, beautiful in his sleep, looking even younger than he is. His hair is tousled and he wrinkles his nose a bit as a lock tickles at his cheek. Hunter brushes it away carefully, tucks it behind his ear, and then traces a finger along the shape of his ear. He’s afraid to touch, afraid of accidentally waking Sunny but his hand moves on its own accord, reaching out, cradling, holding, caressing.
He doesn’t want to think too closely on what it means.
Sunny lets out a small disgruntled sound in his sleep and curls closer to Hunter who freezes for a moment, only relaxing when Sunny goes lax again. A vein pulses at the hollow of his throat and Hunter wants to press his nose there, draw in some of the life that thrums inside the Little Sun, just breathe in the steady pulse.
Somewhere deep in Hunter’s gut, Sunny’s Light thrums and purrs and he yearns more of it. He wants to turn Sunny on his back and push into him, force himself inside of him in any way he’s able but he also wants to inhale all of him to fill the yawning emptiness inside. He wants to make his nest on Sunny’s lap and he wants to curl around him and they both are deeply weird and terrifying thoughts.
He can feel his hapless Brother’s presence tugging at him across the woods but he’s reluctant to leave. Sure, the town is safe within Hemlock’s wards but he’s still needed to let the poor thing out of his misery. He just…can’t bring himself to leave. The mere thought of Sunny waking up and seeing Hunter gone, the thought of the look in his eyes—
No.
He has no idea what missing the Eclipse means or if it means anything. All he knows is that he’s hopelessly tangled with his Little Sun, tethered to him with invisible ties he has no wish to cut.
For the first time in his long existence, he doesn’t feel alone.
And he finds he’s willing to go a long way to keep it that way.