Work Text:
Life is slow, sweet, and golden.
Zealliam has always thought there’s a kind of love only found in the act of mixture. The eyes scope out exactness, the hand feels out spirit, the balance is in between. It feels like a respite. It was never about power, like they claimed. He just wanted to pour out something wonderful.
Life in the town flows in an easy river. From what he’s heard, it used to be far more busy. As it is right now, he can mainly wander around in silence. He gets to take what he needs. There’s no scenes to be caused. It’s a bit lonely, but it’s nice. He might have already gotten used to it.
When Kale is awake, it’s even nicer. Maybe it’s just because they’re often the only two around, but Zealliam thinks it’s more. Kale is bright and charming and direct. He’ll grab onto Zealliam’s arm and spin him around and smile. Zealliam likes it a lot.
It starts with slipping food in each other’s mailboxes, waiting for the other to run to their door with an excited smile. Kale whines until Zealliam bashfully admits how much time he spent on the gift, and then swears to outdo it next time. Somehow, he always does. It’s getting a bit ridiculous. Zealliam is quite aware that neither of them need that much to eat, but it’s more so about the back-and-forth at this point.
One day, Kale shows up at his doorstep early in the morning. Zealliam rushes down in a hurry. His hair is tied back, clothes dusted in flour.
“Kale!” he laughs, apologetically. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”
Kale shrugs. “I was just wandering. Are you normally up at this hour?”
“Sometimes. I was cooking right now, actually. Awkward.”
“Oh, really? Have you not had a meal yet?”
“It was going to be for you, but…” Zealliam feels a strange shyness rise in his cheeks. “No, I haven’t.”
“We should eat together, then. Unless you have anything better to do.”
Zealliam can’t think of anything better. So they sit at his table, and they eat warm food and talk about useless things. The way Kale speaks is easy to follow forever. Zealliam can laugh and nod and somehow they’ve ended up talking about something completely different before he ever knows.
It’s nice enough that they do it the next day. At some point, they both decide it’s a routine without saying anything. Kale will be there. The food will be warm.
One day, Kale stays late. Zealliam watches him leave through his window. As the boy walks away, he spins on his heel and waves at the same time. He’s impressively balanced. Zealliam waves back.
Before he vanishes out of sight, Kale stumbles for once, and Zealliam realizes he’s run into a zombie. Funny, that it was already that late. Zealliam is considering rushing out to help, maybe offering Kale a bed to stay in as an apology, when he realizes that Kale is already striking the zombie down. Somehow, Zealliam can imagine his shouts of annoyance from this far away.
Kale moves quickly, precisely. He shakes out his hands when he’s done, and walks away. He’s confident in his ability to fight. Maybe slightly more than the average farmboy.
He can handle himself, in any case. Zealliam goes to sleep without thinking much more.
----
Zealliam learns small parts of Kale’s past. He has a big family, loving. They used to do everything together.
“This reminds me of ‘em, just a little,” Kale hums, as he passes Zealliam ingredients.
“Yeah?”
“Cooking together, creating together. It’s real nice. Would be nicer with a bigger crowd, but I’m happy to have it with you.”
Zealliam nods. He contributes less of his own past. He doesn’t care for the memories, trying to mix potions in a dark basement, looking over his shoulder. Nobody to see. Nobody who would understand the beauty in the first place. Luckily, Kale talks enough to never ask much.
Zealliam does notice a few things, eventually, in between Kale’s anecdotes and fits of laughter. Kale is quick with a knife, maybe too quick. Kale always seems relaxed, and yet he never goes anywhere without checking his pockets. Kale never uses the dagger strapped to his thigh, and Zealliam never asks. He might not want to admit that he was looking.
----
“Have a drink with me?”
The sun has set properly. The moonlight through the window is drawn to crystal. Zealliam can see Kale’s eyes glint along the bottles in a neat row. When he smiles at Zealliam, his teeth shine too.
“Of course. I rarely appreciate your true craft.”
Zealliam uncorks the bottle and pours them each a glass. Kale sips it cautiously at first, but melts into the warmth soon enough. Zealliam allows it to flood him too. Kale’s face flushes nicely. Zealliam wonders if he feels just as glowing.
He doesn’t really think about the fact that he’s drawing in closer. He doesn’t really feel that disconnected from his body. Maybe he’s just seizing the opportunity. Kale’s lips are shiny from the moisture. It’s quiet outside.
“You’re pretty like this,” he exhales.
Kale giggles. “You’re gonna make me blush, Zealliam.”
“You’re already blushing,” he laughs back, and places his palm on Kale’s cheek to show it. As soon as the contact is made, they both pause.
Kale tilts his head. His burning cheek stays pressed against Zealliam’s palm.
“Are you propositioning me right now?”
“Maybe. Are you accepting?”
Kale sighs, soft and slow from his mouth. Zealliam wants to capture it. His eyes flutter close.
“I think I am.”
It’s a steady melt. Zealliam’s teeth graze Kale’s lower lip before letting it go. He feels the heat from the liquor on both of their tongues, swirls it and takes it down. They’re about to topple over.
His other hand rests on Kale’s thigh. It’s pleasantly firm to squeeze. He’s aware that his wrist is pressing right above the dagger. Kale’s finger hooks into his necklace, tugs dangerously closer. Zealliam lets him.
----
Kale’s fingers trace his sternum. His ponytail is undone, hair fanning around his face like feathers. Despite the flush of alcohol on his face, he still looks confident.
His skin is paler where the sun hasn’t touched it. Zealliam realizes there are a few scars scattered on his torso. It’s probably not the right time to ask. Kale’s weight settles on his hips and he can’t help but gasp.
Kale undoes every zipper and buckle a little too easily. Maybe Zealliam should try and shield himself, but he’s mesmerized. So they shall both be laid bare. It’s just human nature.
Kale slides the dagger out from the strap, turns it around in his hand and hums.
“Reckon I’ll have to use this, Zealliam?”
“I-” Zealliam pauses. He can feel his pulse thrumming in his neck. God, he’s curious to see what spills out. “Why would you?”
“Who knows. Never hurts to be cautious. Maybe you’re gonna betray me, hm?”
Kale laughs and sets the dagger to the side. Zealliam notes that it’s still easy to reach. and then Kale is reaching a hand between his own thighs and Zealliam can’t think of much at all.
Kale pours the oil generously onto his fingers, dripping into the lines of his palm as he works Zealliam up and down. Zealliam groans at the feeling, hips rising up slightly. Kale clicks his tongue and presses down.
“Control yourself, handsome.”
Zealliam allows the tension to coil in his stomach, does nothing but watch as Kale stretches himself open. He wants to feel for himself, probe out all the soft parts and sweet noises Kale can make, but he has a good guess as to what’ll happen if he raises his hands. He just watches Kale’s fingers curl in and out, winding himself up until he’s hovering over Zealliam, sinking down in agonizingly slow little circles. Zealliam resists, resists the urge to dig his fingers into the softness of Kale’s hips and push him down. Kale can take this from him. The dagger still glints in the corner of his eye. Kale can take everything.
And he does, head tossed back, hair catching the light like a halo. He takes until Zealliam has nothing to cling onto to prevent his noises, just a few gasps of prayer in case he drowns in this, drowns in the molten gold all around him.
“Kale,” he chokes out, hands scrabbling weakly against the sheets. “I can’t-”
He squeezes his eyes shut, and then he feels it. Cold metal right against his neck, shock down his spine, cracking and fizzling. Just the threat. Enough for sparks to explode behind his eyes and pleasure to explode at the stem of his brain. His hips jolt forward just once, something too much for him to control. Kale whines in surprise, and Zealliam goes limp as he spills into him.
Through blurry, half-open eyes, he can watch Kale bring himself to the shuddering edge, dragging it out over every frayed nerve.
----
When he wanders to the kitchen, Kale is already there.
“Your head doesn’t hurt?”
“I was hardly that gone, silly. Have some faith in me, won’tcha?”
“Just being polite. Do you want any help?”
Kale drums his fingers against the table.
“If you could bring me some eggs, you’d be lovely.”
Zealliam obliges.
As he reaches to hand them to Kale, he pauses. The dagger is laying on the table again. He shakes himself out of his confusion long enough to put the eggs in Kale’s hands. The boy raises an amused eyebrow.
“Do you wanna know where I got it?”
Zealliam squints to look closer.
“The engraving is…familiar.”
“Of course it is. It’s the symbol of our country. You still remember, don’t you?”
It’s an unassuming day. The sky is bright. They could be talking about anything. Kale cracks the eggs smoothly, starting to whisk them.
“I do. Why do you have it?”
“They gave it to me. Part of my mission.”
“And what was your mission?”
Kale turns to smile at him. His eyes are surprisingly soft.
“Well, I can’t quite remember. I think I was supposed to be hunting down some criminal. A threat to the nation, they said. But I can’t seem to find anyone meeting that description in these parts. What a shame that is.”
Zealliam pauses. He tries to fight back the grin on his face. He doesn’t think he succeeds.
“Are you sure? He could be anywhere.”
“Oh, it’s been so long, after all. I’m sure they’ve gone and forgotten about the whole ordeal.
Kale leans forward to brush his lips on Zealliam’s cheek.
“For all they know, I might just be here forever.”